


Tell Me You Know

by RichiesToesHurt



Series: To Build a Home [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst with a Happy Ending, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Bisexual Beverly Marsh, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Bisexual Disaster Richie Tozier, Bisexual Mike Hanlon, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Bisexual Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eventual Smut, Everyone is a little gay except for Ben, Excessive use of the word fuck, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Jealous Richie Tozier, M/M, Marijuana, Mentioned Sonia Kaspbrak, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Oblivious Richie Tozier, POV Richie Tozier, Recreational Drug Use, Reddie, Richie Tozier Being an Asshole, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Underage Drinking, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 79,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichiesToesHurt/pseuds/RichiesToesHurt
Summary: Life in the Denbrough-Hanlon-Hanscom-Kaspbrak-Marsh-Tozier-Uris residence was good. Well as good as it could be in their sophomore year of college. As good as it could be living off of strict budgets alongside a bunch of stressed people Richie considered to be family. As good as it could be when your best friend and love of your life was dating a hot jock and boned each-other in the room right next to yours.orThe Losers Club is in college, living in the same house together. Eddie gets a boyfriend and Richie is distraught.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Original Character(s), Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: To Build a Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670944
Comments: 131
Kudos: 301





	1. Fuck This Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house party that Richie will never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for TW!

Life in the Denbrough-Hanlon-Hanscom-Kaspbrak-Marsh-Tozier-Uris residence was good. Well as good as it could be in their sophomore year of college. As good as it could be living off of strict budgets alongside a bunch of stressed people Richie considered to be family.

They found the house over the summer, eager to be free of expensive dorms and confined living. The house was just about as cheap as they come, but it had just about everything they needed. Their landlord was nice, and it was close to their college in Maine, far enough from Derry and closer to their freedom of adult living. The house had four bedrooms and a basement that they assigned to be a fifth. The room Richie chose was small and on the second floor, Eddie’s was next door and a mirror image of Richie’s, they were the same size and had the same placement of the window and furniture, reversed in each room. Stan’s was across the hall and a bit bigger than Richie and Eddie’s rooms, next to Stan’s room had been a bathroom that the three of them shared. Bev and Ben, as high school sweethearts decided to share the master bedroom that was on the main floor of the house, with a master bath attached. This left Bill and Mike to share the basement, it was relatively spacious with a bathroom there for them to share. The side of the room that didn’t situate their beds, was set up with a ping pong table, that they rarely used.

One of Richie’s favorite parts of the house was the back porch in which he and Bev would sit and smoke their Marlborough’s. Watching the sun set and listening to music through Richie’s opened bedroom window. Sometimes one of them were able to get their hands-on some marijuana and would smoke that instead, usually they were able to get Ben, Mike, and Bill to join them. Stan and Eddie however, outright _refused,_ and their refusal was usually followed by a ramble train from Eddie about how their brains weren’t even developed completely yet and that the weed will kill their brain cells before living up to their potential. Richie doubted any of it was even true, but respected his decision anyway.

The kitchen was normal, linoleum was the first word that came to mind upon entering. Off of the kitchen, however, was what was _meant_ to be the dining room. However, in the context of the Losers in college, the room had been deemed by Richie to be the ‘Loser Library’ because of how often the table had been littered with open textbooks, papers, notebooks, and general office supplies. The room even had a bookshelf fitted against the back wall of the room that housed their textbooks.

Richie loved the house, not because it had stunning eclectic features or because of its magnificent location, or whatever the reason may be that people normally loved their house, he loved it because it was home. Wherever he was with the rest of the Losers was home. They could live in a dumpster and Richie would be more than happy as long as they were all together.

They all slotted into the dynamic of each other in the house, there were rarely fights about house chores because they all kind of _worked_ together, understanding everyone’s needs and situations. Stan was usually the one to devise the routine of Sunday morning laundry trips, driving himself and whoever else had laundry to do to their local laundromat. Eddie and Stan had trained Richie into cleaning up after himself in their shared bathroom. They all washed their dishes when they were finished with them, leaving them on a drying rack instead of dirty in the sink. And whenever the whole house needed attention Stan and Eddie rallied everyone and they all worked diligently to clean it, with only _a little_ bit of a disruption from Richie.

Life in Derry had been hard for all of them, growing up in a homophobic town with bullies yielding knives sure had its downsides. But they all found refuge with each other, clinging to each other and becoming stronger as a unit. None of them were put off by each other’s sexual orientation, all of which were pretty diverse from the norm of society in the nineties. Richie and Bill were positive of their bisexuality, Mike and Stan have never come out and said that they were, but they acknowledged it when an attractive man or woman crossed their paths. Eddie had told them he was gay during the summer before their freshman year of college. Bev had told them she was bisexual shortly after Richie came out in their junior year of high school. Ben was the odd one out, as straight as an arrow but quick to retort and defend when someone attacked one of his friends with a slur or glare.

None of their sex lives were really exciting, except maybe Richie who would occasionally find someone to go home with at a party or flirt with someone in his class until the inevitable happened. He was surprisingly cautious when going for someone of the same gender, very much residually terrified from his childhood in Derry. Slurs and insults jabbed his way for simply walking down the hall with his arm strung around the shoulders of his friends. He was always careful to not lead the short-lived relationships anywhere, eager to leave his relationship availability wide open for the one he knew he loved.

He’s known about his love for Eddie since puberty, the way he reacted differently around him coming clear now. His need to fuck with him greater compared to the rest of his friends, begging for the individualized attention from him. Melting with each graze of his arm or phrase of encouragement or support. He was in deep for Eddie, he loved him with all of his being, but he knew Eddie didn’t feel the same.

He knew this because of the glances that Eddie flashed boys at parties or his confident flirting with said boys. He couldn’t help but envy those boys, he couldn’t help but hate the way they caught Eddie’s glance and melt to a puddle on the floor like he knew he would if he had been the one to receive it. He felt hate boil low in his stomach when they would touch him like it was nothing, when they would put a hand to the small of his back as Eddie lined up his shot for beer pong and act as if they weren’t touching a Greek God. If he could touch Eddie the way that they did with the knowledge that Eddie was interested in pursuing something, he would cherish each moment, he would take the time to make him feel like he was everything.

Though Eddie grows flirty with alcohol, his routine of singling out a guy to lead on for the evening never lead anywhere. They usually left the party separately, Eddie with the losers, and whatever lucky guy that Eddie swooned for the evening with his own group. Never exchanging phone numbers or plans for a meet-up or date in the future. This always comforted Richie, he was satisfied with the idea that none of them were good enough for Eddie. Hell, if it was up to Richie _no one_ would be good enough for Eddie because Eddie deserved the world, and there was no one on earth that could give it to him.

Bev was the only one who knew about Richie’s feelings for Eddie, he confided with her towards the end of their junior year in High School. He told her just about everything, between how hard he had fallen for Eddie and how much time he spends counting the freckles painting his nose and cheeks. She told him back then to simply _tell him_ , but he just _couldn’t._ Hell, he _still_ can’t.

He couldn’t taint their group dynamic like that. He couldn’t share his feelings with Eddie because then he would fucking _know,_ and everything would be _different._ He couldn’t share his feelings because then when Eddie said he didn’t feel the same, things would be weird, and their dynamic would be fucked. Richie would be pushed farther from Eddie and he wouldn’t be able to call him his best friend anymore. Richie’s love for Eddie hadn’t grown weaker over the years, if anything it’s grown stronger. He was quite literally head over heels for the man he’s known since they were six years old.

They were in their fifth week of fall semester in their sophomore year of college and Richie was starting to realize how fucking much he hated his Biology degree. He had somehow let himself be convinced by his parents that Pre-Med was the way to go, and repulsed the idea now that he was balls deep in his Chemistry course.

College had been hard for all of them, obviously the workload and dedication had been a shift compared to high school. However, in Richie and Bev’s books the need to destress and have fun had been increased as well. They were usually the ones to go out on the weekends and convince others to come as well. The most frequent to agree attendance had been Ben, Bill and Eddie. Stan and Mike felt that they would rather relax at home or even get a head start on the following week’s workload.

This weekend had been no different. Richie was informed of a party by a girl in his Chemistry lab who he suspects invited him with intention to pursue something, which he wasn’t at all interested in. Not only was he not interested because she was not at all his type and had only had _maybe_ three good conversations with her, but because Eddie would be there, and he just couldn’t do that. He had relayed the information to Bev and they together convinced Bill, Ben, and Eddie to attend the party with them that night.

The party itself was a few blocks down the road so they decided it was best to walk, Richie and Bev openly smoked a joint as they walked, passing it back and forth.

“You have like four braincells left Richie you shouldn’t be fucking doing that.” Eddie said, dramatically making a big deal of their drug use.

“Oh, I have five and you fucking know it.” Richie said, taking a particularly long drag on the joint.

“Well after that joint it’s going to be four.” Eddie said. “Also, why would you smoke that and then plan to drink, you know how dangerous cross fading can be Richie? Do I have to remind you what happened last year? You could have fucking died.” Eddie referred to the night last fall when Richie had admittedly gotten way too fucked up and threw up on the front lawn of the house party they were at.

“Oh, come on, Bev is doing it too! Plus, I wasn’t going to _die_ … it was just vomit I didn’t even pass out or anything.”

“Yeah but she knows how to pace herself! And you would have if me and Ben didn’t practically carry you home.”

“Plus, I have a whopping _ten_ braincells left.” Bev giggled and took the joint from Richie.

“Whatever Spaghetti-Man, if you want to put me on a leash be my guest, I’ve been dying for our sex life to get kinkier anyway.” Richie said as if it meant nothing.

“Don’t fucking call me that and we _don’t_ have a fucking sex life dumb ass. Plus, that’s fucking weird anyway.”

“What the leash, or a sex life with Richie?” Bev asked.

“Both I guess!” Eddie’s cheeks reddened in the dim lighting of the streetlights. “Are we almost there I feel like we’ve been walking forever.”

“I think it’s that one…” Ben said, pointing to a house across the street, then lead the way to the front door.

Richie tossed the butt of the joint into a storm drain as they walked to the porch. He felt almost nothing from the joint, his tolerance had grown immensely over the years and now that he was bordering the line of becoming a full on stoner he needed a lot more than half of a joint to really start considering the meaning of life and wallow in the groggy feeling of a good high.

The party seemed to have been going for long enough for a few people to get wasted. The girl that invited Richie to the party was seated on the stairs leading to the second floor of the house just in front of the front door when they entered. She had to have been five drinks in already, greeting Richie with slurred speech and an overly comfortable arm threaded through his own. He couldn’t help but feel weird about it. Having no feelings towards her in the way that she had obviously hoped and them being in such close proximity to Eddie.

He couldn’t even recall her _name_ , she had maybe told him once at the beginning of the semester, and he’s never really had a _reason_ to remember it until now. He’s never really flocked to her for conversation or to get her attention.

 _“Richieee… I’m so glad you made it…”_ She said, tugging on his arm.

Bev flashed him a look reading, ‘good luck with that’ before leading the way to the kitchen.

“Yeah… me too.” Richie said, awkwardly. He tried to pull his arm free of her grasp as he turned to follow Bev, Bill, Ben and Eddie deeper into the house, in search of alcohol.

 _“Oh my God I have been_ dying _to hang out with you outside of class! Just dying…”_ The girl said, still holding Richie’s arm and slurring her speech loudly, leaning closer to the side of his head as she spoke.

Richie felt that not replying was the best option. The whole situation was very much annoying and inconvenient, he had been looking forward to a night of partying with those he referred to as his family but now he had a drunken girl leeching his arm.

They made it to the kitchen and the girl had made no indications that she was prepared to drop her hold on Richie.

 _“You have to catch up with me Richie… we have to be the same amount of drunk…”_ She spoke close to his ear now.

“Why is that?” Richie asked, eyebrows raised with a hint of amusement but voice relatively monotone, to indicate to his friends and hopefully her that he was uninterested.

 _“So that we both are drunk as fuck when we get busy later.”_ She said, thinking she was whispering.

Bill turned and laughed openly at the situation, Bev laughed too, and Eddie shot him a look of disgust mixed with anger.

“Busy with what? I finished my lab report already and I don’t think I’ll be much of a help writing yours…” Richie joked, embarrassed by the situation.

_“No… silly you know with what… stop playing dumb.”_

Richie watched as Eddie angrily poured himself a drink and left the room, Richie was immediately pissed about the situation. Eager to squash whatever ideas this girl had before he joked his way into her getting him alone.

Even if he liked her he would _never_ pursue anything with a someone this drunk. His moral code was in check and he was super on board with the idea of consensual and sober sex.

“Listen uh… I think we both interpreted this whole… thing differently.” He motioned between them with his free hand. “I am not interested in having sex with you or anything…” He said awkwardly.

She appeared super offended and dropped his arm. Muttering something that none of them could hear before storming out of the room, and hopefully out of the party.

“That was fucking brutal to watch…” Bev said.

“Brutal but funny.” Bill commented.

“Fuck off you two…” Richie said, grateful that Ben had been there to be the silent mediator, feeling worse for Richie than amused about the situation.

Richie reached into the sink, filled with cold water and ice, to grab a beer, he opened the can and dramatically drank about half of it before taking a breath.

“Christ Richie, Eddie had a point you know. I don’t want to see puke tonight…” Bev commented.

Richie ignored her comment and left the room. He wasn’t very angry about the girl’s misinterpretation of their relationship. Second and firsthand embarrassment were two things that Richie was very familiar with and therefore he felt almost no reaction to the feelings. He was however angry at the fact that Eddie had seen the whole thing. Angry that Eddie was now angry at him or the situation. Either one sucked because now Eddie thinks that Richie has spent the semester flirting with this fucking girl and the situation couldn’t have been more different. He didn’t even know her fucking _name_ let alone had any urge to sleep with her.

He stalked around the house, looking for familiar faces or someone to talk to. He sipped his beer more casually now, happy with the buzz that his initial swig left him with. When he arrived in the living room he was met with a sight that he wished he hadn’t stumbled into.

Eddie was seated on the love seat across the room, sipping his drink with his shoulders squared and his legs crossed, there was a guy seated next to him. The guy was fucking _attractive_ , and it didn’t take much for Richie to know that the guy was for _sure_ digging Eddie and vice versa. This guy was leaned close to Eddie, who held a smirk on his lips as they maintained conversation. This guy’s head bobbed closer with each word and Richie saw a blush creep over Eddie’s cheeks.

 _‘Just fucking kill me know…’_ Richie couldn’t help but think to himself.

This guy was _clean_ , his face was shaved without a nick in sight. His hair was more than done, it was perfect, styled securely in a neat quaff that shined in the low light of the party. His clothes were ironed, and he took the time to match them. Compared to Richie it was no question. Based on looks alone he felt that this guy won ten times over. They were about the same height, but this guy was fit, he looked as if he could probably lift a ten-year-old kid with one arm alone. Richie, though toned, sure, was nothing compared to this guy.

He was buff and sexy and well… Richie just wasn’t…

He downed the rest of his beer and retreated back to the kitchen, trying his best not to notice how captivated Eddie seemed to be by their conversation. He caught Bev’s eyes as he walked past towards the sink again. Dropping his empty can somewhere on the floor that was already littered with cups and cans. She flashed him a questioned scowl from her spot perched on the counter in front of Ben and Richie just shook his head.

All he wanted in that moment was to get completely shit faced so he could pay no mind to the happenings in the next room over. As he opened his second beer he tried his best to avoid Bev’s piercing gaze and instead searched the room for the one person who wouldn’t pick up on his mood shift. When he didn’t see him, he directed his question to the next best.

“Where’s Bill?” He asked Ben.

“Basement I think, someone recognized him and pulled him away… is everything okay?” Ben spoke slow and questioning.

“Yeah I’m great.” Richie tried his best to flash a smile before walking away to try to find the basement.

He hoped and prayed to whatever higher being that existed that the door to the basement wasn’t in the fucking living room. The last thing he needed was a visual refresher of the love of his life absolutely hitting it off with some fucking Brazilian Soccer player.

He started in what his mother might refer to as _‘the parlor’_ trying the door in there and finding a closet. He then walked to the entrance of the house, and saw a line streaming down a hall, he didn’t have to try the door to understand that that was the bathroom. He tried the door next to the front door and found _another_ closet, then finally struck gold with the door under the stairs in the foyer. He heard talking and whooping and decided that even if Bill wasn’t down here, that’s where he’d like to stay.

The distinct skunk-like stench of marijuana was like music to his fucking nostrils as he struck ground in the basement.

“Richie!” Bill cheered obviously balls deep in a good fucking high.

“Where’s the fucking weed at Big Bill!” Richie cheered back, triggering finger guns at him as if he was a cop busting the party.

“Over here come on, sit!” Bill said, shifting on the couch to make room for him to sit down.

Richie guzzled down a good amount of his beer as he walked over to sit next to him.

“Alright… so _this_ is Corey, we had college writing two l-last semester together.” Bill smacked the shoulder of some blond kid sitting on the armchair next to him, of whom was holding a massive bong with a fresh bowl ready to go. “And these are his friends… uh David, and uh… Carter.”

The two other boys gave a nod and a wave, one of which was slumped on the floor and the other blinking desperately at his reddening eyes reclined on the chair.

“They just smoked a shit ton of weed while we were catching up.” Corey explained, acknowledging Richie’s gaze.

“Damn I wish that were me…” Richie laughed.

“And it could be, here you go man, start us off…” Corey passed the bong to Richie.

“Don’t mind if I fucking do, we’re blasting off boys!” He cheered as he pressed the bong to his lips and lit the bowl with his lighter.

He inhaled as much as he physically could, he felt his back fucking _crack_ at how deep of a breath he took. He felt his lungs and throat burn at the sensation begging him to stop and exhale the smoke. He held it in and passed the bong to Bill before exhaling. He felt lighter almost immediately. Like his consciousness and being was becoming too big or almost _out of sync_ with his physical body. He was thankful as fuck to this guy Corey for having the good shit.

“Holy shit…” Bill said through his exhale, resulting in a coughing fit.

Richie laughed at him as Corey took the bong from him.

“Come back to us Big Bill!” Richie yelled as he pounded his back.

Bill only laughed which caused his cough attack to become more violent.

Richie laughed and pounded on his back more and Bill slapped at his thigh. Eventually his cough attack was over, and Richie passed him his can of beer to wash it down.

“Wow…” Bill said as he handed the beer back to Richie. “That’s some good fucking weed.”

Corey laughed and nodded enthusiastically and leaned to pass the bong back to Richie. Who proceeded with the same routine, inhaling as deep as physically possible before passing the bong to Bill.

David or Carter on the reclining chair fell asleep and the other went upstairs, in the time it took for them to get through the whole bowl, which was a fucking _lot_ of weed. Richie felt insanely high, a feeling he didn’t necessarily _enjoy_ , but felt secure in his inability to hold onto a string of thought long enough to dwell on Eddie upstairs. He lazily guzzled the rest of his, now disgustingly warm beer, and announced that he was going upstairs for another.

“ _I’m… coming too…”_ Bill said next to him. Richie lolled his head to the side and saw that Bill, like himself was appearing to actively trying to _become_ part of the couch.

Neither of them said anything or moved for the good part of a minute before Richie wiggled himself into an upright position. Bill next to him did the same and they stood together. Richie felt like his feet had a mind of their own as he headed towards the stairs. A thought crossed his mind about a consideration about the weed having been laced with something, but that was the extent of his thought about it.

They barreled through the door at the top of the stairs, spooking a group of girls nearby who were in line for the bathroom. They both fell into a fit of laughter at that, and the girls scoffed and rolled their eyes, in a better state of mind, Richie would have apologized for laughing or felt bad for scaring them, but right now it was the peak of comedy. They laughed so hard that Richie slung his arm around Bill for stability as they walked towards the kitchen. The way Bill lead them was through the living room, and Richie didn’t even notice when Eddie and his guy were no longer there.

They walked into the kitchen and were met with the faces of Eddie, Bev, and Ben. Ben was now seated next to Bev on the counter and Eddie was standing nearby leaning against it.

“What’s up fuckers!” Richie said, louder than he expected.

Bill laughed under his arm and slunk out of his grasp to walk to the sink, fishing a beer out if it with Richie close behind. They both struck open their cans and crashed them together dramatically before chugging until they couldn’t, Richie felt his throat and nostrils burn at the sensation but kept going anyway until he felt a hand at his elbow, tugging his arm away.

 _“Richie what the fuck!”_ Eddie yelled; his voice shrill. _“What did I fucking tell you!? I told you not to fucking do this!”_

Richie could barely register his words, he blinked hard and raised his eyebrows as he tried to register Eddie’s face in front of him.

 _“Jesus Christ, do you even know what I’m saying right now!?”_ Eddie yelled again, shaking Richie’s shoulders now.

“Yes…” Richie responded, nodding his head up and down.

 _“What were you guys even doing down there!? It’s been like an hour and a half!”_ Eddie said, hands waving furiously in front of him now.

“ _Why don’t you yell at Bill, why are you singling me out!?”_ Richie said, paying no mind do how slurred his speech was.

“Because I’m mad at _you_ not Bill!”

That somehow struck a chord in Richie’s brain. Why does Eddie get to be mad at him, how is that fucking fair? Eddie goes and gets all dressed up in his adorable fucking sweater and does his hair all nice only to talk to some hot guy all night. Effectively shattering Richie’s heart all over the floor.

 _“Jesus, where’s your new boy toy when we need him. Why don’t you go home with him, cool off a bit, get your fucking dick wet, and come and talk to me tomorrow…”_ Richie said, waving his hand in front of Eddies face and drinking more of his beer.

Eddie wretched the can out of Richie’s hand and threw it into the sink before taking a _furious_ deep breath.

“Shut the fuck up Richie!” Eddie screeched, with no hint of amusement or sarcasm that the phrase usually accompanied.

“Oh, so you can get the last fucking word!? I don’t think so pal.” Richie spat the words, he felt a pain twinge against his tongue, having bit it in his rage of slurred speech. “Go run off with your fucking dude, get back to me, tell me how big his fucking dick is and how there’s a six pack down the shaft.” He laughed hatefully along with his words; tears prickled his eyes.

“Okay Richie, that’s enough… come on.” Ben said hopping off the counter now and grabbing his arm, trying to lead him out of the room.

“Richie I fucking _hate_ you right now!” Eddie screamed.

“ _I wish I could fucking say the same Eds!”_ Richie yelled back, laughing almost hysterically at the whole ordeal as he let himself be led out of the house by Ben.

He wretched his arm out of Ben’s firm grasp when they reached the sidewalk, shoving his hands into his pockets instead. They walked in silence for a few minutes, of which Richie was grateful for, it gave him a moment to suppress his need to cry or scream or both. The ordeal was sobering enough for Richie to realize he had been out of line and he was frustrated about it. He felt his stomach churn with anger and hatred, not for Eddie, never for Eddie, but for the situation and that fucking _guy…_ that he didn’t even know. He didn’t have to meet the guy to understand how much fucking _jealousy_ and _envy_ he felt already.

He quickly realized that people’s stomachs don’t _churn_ when their angry and realized he was going to throw up, dangerously soon. He smacked Bens arm before pointing to a nearby bush on someone’s front lawn then followed the point of his finger to his destination. In the haze of his high he tripped a bit over his feet as he walked.

He crouched and spewed his guts all over the fucking shrubbery, as his stomach wretched its contents he felt Ben’s kind hand on his back. Richie nodded as if to indicate that it was helping and spewed the rest of his vomit before standing upright and wiping his mouth on the inside of his shirt.

Tears burned down his cheeks mostly from vomiting, but also because of whatever the fuck just happened at that party, and for Richie, once he started to cry he couldn’t stop. This only frustrated him more as he roughly wiped the tears away with his finger’s, digging against the delicate skin of his under eye.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Richie yelled, stomping his foot as he did so.

“It’s okay Rich…” Ben tried.

“No, it’s fucking not _Ben…_ ” Richie snapped back, a little too aggressive for his own liking, he felt immediate regret with the force of the retort.

“Why is it _fucking not_ Richie?” Ben shot back, the cadence of his voice emphasizing the _‘fucking not’_ that sent alarms off in Richie’s ears, having almost never heard Ben swear before.

Richie shook his head and scoffed at the ground, stumped with how he wanted to reply.

“Richie, why did you get so mad back there?” Ben asked, in his usual kind tone of voice.

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at the houses across the street. As if they were the most interesting thing in the world, so interesting that he didn’t hear a word that Ben had said.

“You can talk to me Richie; you know that right?” Ben said, all comforting and kind, bringing more tears to Richie’s eyes, which frustrated him more.

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and tensing his shoulders.

“Richie… I—”

“I just…” Richie interrupted. He took a deep breath before admitting his confession. “I just, love…him…” He slumped into his words as they walked, a defeated sigh escaped his lips. “I love him, okay?”

“Well, I could have told you that…” An edge of amusement carried through his voice.

“Fuck you man.” Richie said, there wasn’t an ounce of negative energy in his tone.

“Sorry Richie. I just mean, I see the way you look at him and stuff. You’ve got it bad man.” Ben said, a comforting hand pressed into the back of Richie’s shoulder.

“I know and it’s fucking shitty.” Richie sighed. “I don’t know, I just can’t fucking take it when he talks to guys like, _that…_ ” Images flashed through his eyes of Eddie’s honest smile gleaming, directed towards the man, whose hand rested on Eddie’s shoulder as they spoke.

“Well you know, they never really lead to anything, he’ll probably never see that guy again.” Ben comforted.

“Yeah… I know…”

“Maybe you should finally shoot your shot man, tell him how you feel.”

“I can’t do that, you know I cant.” Richie huffed.

“Well, why not?”

“Because everything would be fucked up! Like the whole dynamic of us will be shifted and everything would be weird.”

“That’s not true at all and you know that.” Ben laughed a little. “Look at Bev and I, nothing really changed for everyone else and well Bev and I are just closer now obviously.”

“Well yeah because she loved you back. Eddie doesn’t like me like that, I don’t think he ever will if I’m being honest.”

“You don’t know that. You’re a great guy Rich… your charming and funny, and if I’m being honest, you’re a good-looking guy too.”

“Thanks haystack, means a lot coming from a hunk like you.” Richie laughed now, an honest laughter, made wobbly and weird with the tears still streaming down his face.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, shoot your shot Richie, just tell him how you feel.” Ben elbowed his arm as they walked.

“Yeah, maybe I will…” but he knew he wouldn’t.

He’d keep living his lonely life, riddled with the fear that Eddie Kaspbrak will someday say ‘no.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Marijuana Use, Underage drinking 
> 
> This is my favorite fic I've ever written and I am so excited to see how everyone feels about it!


	2. Thank God for Goodwill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor's voice through the phone was far from the first thing Richie wanted to hear upon waking up with a hangover, handing the call off to Eddie had been worse. Having to listen as they planned their date for later that day cracked his heart like an egg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See End notes for TW!

Richie awoke in a fog, his head pounding, eyes squinting and stomach retching. The light peaking though the shutters of his blinds and pierced against his eyes was cause for repulsion. If it wasn’t for his body yelling at him to get his ass to the bathroom and throw up he would have rolled to the other side of the bed, away from the window and tugged the blanket well over his head.

Instead, he ripped himself from his bed and clumsily walked to the door of his bedroom, tripping over his electric guitar on the ground in the process. He spat curses in its direction on his way out of the room, and clambered into the bathroom across the hall.

Yanking the lid of the toilet up, he made it just in time, vomit burning his nostrils and throat as it expelled from his stomach. He gripped the bowl of the toilet and sat on the ground when he was finished, he felt the oncoming of another round. In the silence between his first vomit fiasco and the second he heard footsteps coming towards the bathroom, then stopped as if someone stopped in front of the still opened door. Richie didn’t have the focus or energy to turn and see who it was, before he was spewing his guts again, between the noises of his vomit sloshing into the toilet bowl he heard the door gently close.

When he felt almost back to normal, he stood up and brushed his teeth, even swished some mouth wash around before returning to his room. He shoved his glasses on his face and picked up some sweatpants from the ground, pulling them on over his boxers.

Before leaving the room he picked up his guitar, his most prized possession, a gift he was given so long ago in his freshman year of high school. His father picked it out for him, a cardinal red Gibson challenger, he really did love the guitar and played it frequently. One of his favorite past time activities was plucking along to his current favorite songs, figuring out the chords and playing along with the bands he enjoyed so much. On the empty red space, he wrote his favorite songs or artists in permanent marker, _Psycho Killer, David Bowie, The Smiths,_ and _The Cure_ to name a few. When a band or artist had a logo, he would opt to drawing it out rather than writing the words. Enjoying the aesthetic of the drawings versus his messy scrawl.

He reminisced about the first time Eddie saw him drawing on his guitar, he freaked out about how it’ll stain and how his dad is going to be completely pissed when he saw. Richie could only smirk and reassure that it comes off with a bit of rubbing alcohol. Eddie than came over and helped him write a few out, his handwriting far neater than Richie’s own.

Richie allowed his fingers to graze the titles that Eddie wrote so long ago, as he walked to lean the guitar against his wall instead of leaving it to lay on the floor. He strummed his thumb against the strings, their quiet melodic chime rang through the room, delicately unamplified by the amp he tended to use when playing.

With that, he walked out of his room, pondering the history he had with Eddie and the talk with Ben last night. He was still set on avoiding the conversation with Eddie and looking forward to things going back to normal. He felt that he should apologize to him, but decided against doing anything right now, dying for a cup of coffee and possibly some ibuprofen to get his pounding headache to fuck off.

He poured himself a cup from the coffee maker and switched it off, registering that everyone in the house was now awake by their voices conversing in various rooms, Bev, Ben, and Eddie in the living room, Stan, Mike, and Bill in the dining room/library, and Richie in the kitchen. He fixed the coffee how he liked, three heaping scoops of sugar and a splash of half and half. Obnoxiously sweet and creamy.

The sound of the phone ringing on the wall of the kitchen quickly brought him to his senses. He cleared his throat before answering.

“Hello?” His voice was raspier than he would have liked. He cleared his throat again as he waited for a reply from the person on the other line.

“Hi, is Eddie there? Eddie Kaspbrak?” Richie felt his stomach plummet to the floor, he knew immediately who the fuck this was, and it brought a whole new layer of pounding to his head. He squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed at his temple.

“May I ask who’s calling?” He thought to say, trying to stall the conversation as best he could.

“This is Conner… he gave me this number last night.” The man sounded confused and possibly a bit annoyed, Richie found himself feeling happy about his mood shift, but devastated over the fact that Eddie shared his number with this guy. He obviously hit it off with him last night and was eager to see him again, Richie squeezed his eyes shut and leaned against the counter for support. “Is he there or…”

“Oh, yeah he’s here.”

“Can you… put him on?” Connor asked, his annoyed tone carrying through the line more prominently now.

“He’s sleeping.” Richie said, flatly.

“Oh, okay, well I guess I’ll call back later then.” Connor sounded shocked and it was only now that Richie glanced at the clock and saw that it read twelve forty in the afternoon.

“No…uh…I’ll just, I’ll just go get him. I guess he should wake up now anyway right?” Richie tried to force a happy tone. He felt bad about sabotaging Eddie’s relationship and really couldn’t blame this guy for taking his shot with him.

“Okay…” Conner said, and he might have said something more, but Richie dropped the phone onto the counter and walked onto the living room.

He couldn’t help but drag his feet as he walked, coffee in hand and glaze over his eyes.

“Eds… phone…” Was all he said when he got into the room.

Eddie responded with a surprised face, how the fuck could he be surprised, of course this guy would call him, he’s the most attractive person alive, inside and out. Richie leaned against the wall of the hallway to allow Eddie to squeeze past him. Richie followed him into the kitchen, remembering that he wanted to take some medication to rid his headache.

“Hello?” Eddie said into the phone, all excited and adorable.

Richie tried his best to drown out the conversation as he dug though the medicine cabinet, looking for his bottle of choice.

“Oh Connor, hi! I didn’t think you’d call!”

Richie rolled his eyes to himself as he popped open the bottle of ibuprofen, knocking three into the palm of his hand.

“Yeah…sure that sounds like a lot of fun.”

Richie smacked the pills to the back of his throat and washed them down with a swig of his coffee.

“I guess I’ll see you then, okay… yeah, that sounds good to me! Alright, bye.”

Richie could almost hear the sound of his heart shattering as he left the kitchen. Instead of sitting in the living room with his friends like he usually would on a day like this, he turned and went right back upstairs. Looking forward to zoning out for a few hours with his guitar.

He set his mug of coffee down on his bedside table before reaching for his guitar and sitting on his bed, he sat with his back leaned against the wall he shared with Eddie’s room. Their rooms were quite literally mirrored images of each other, if the wall wasn’t there, their beds would be right next to each other. Their windows were in the same spot and their dressers were each across from their beds, the only things different were what they chose to decorate with. For Richie it was his guitar and his amp, he had a record player and sound system capable of playing cassettes and CDs that his dad gave him when he moved out, he also had a nice set of speakers on top of his dresser and a milk crate stuffed full of records on the floor. There was a shelf in his room as well, housing his CD and cassette tape collection.

His walls were covered in movie and band posters and there was once a time when the vibrant rug beneath his bed sat straight and lay evenly across the ground like how Eddie’s was in the next room over, but it has since become rippled and crooked. Richie joked about it tying the room together when Eddie came in and commented on it a few weeks ago.

Richie knocked his head against the wall and strummed at a few chords. Practicing the transition between a few and fiddling with his fingers to find a comfortable way to do so. He did this until he fell into a rhythm of a song the chords reminded him of. ‘Look What the Wind Blew In’ by Thin Lizzy was the song that started to morph before him. He hasn’t yet really fooled around with the piece yet, so it was choppy and sloppy, the tempo was slow as fuck and he was biting his lip trying to figure it out.

He plugged it into his amp to better hear what he was doing, focusing more on the sound of the chords rather than the sound of his pick against the strings. He leaned back against the wall and went right back to work, settling into a comfortable rhythm with the strange time signature. It didn’t take long for him to get the opening of the song down; he was able to increase the tempo after maybe twenty minutes.

Playing his guitar was a wonderful distraction from whatever Eddie was going through with this guy. Richie’s heart felt bruised after last night and the phone call. He hated that he felt this way and couldn’t just be _happy_ for his friend but alas, he couldn’t, so instead of lingering in the kitchen to yank his chain about the whole thing, he retreated to his room. A contrast to what the situation would be if it were Bill who found someone last night, someone he wanted to call and arrange a meet up with, or God forbid a _date_ with.

A knock at the door pulled Richie from his thoughts and voided focus on his playing, the door swung open and as it did, all of the thoughts came rushing back. Eddie came into the room and closed the door behind him. He stood awkwardly for a minute, fiddling with his hands.

“What’s up buttercup?” Richie asked, trying his best to fall into their normal routine. Flinching through the smirk on his face.

“Richie… we have to talk about last night.” Eddie said, every ounce of happiness and excitement Richie heard in the kitchen vacated, leaving only his serious and cautious tone. Richie felt a twinge of jealousy that he wasn’t the one on the other end of the line, hearing Eddie all excited about their plans together.

“Yeah… I guess we do…” Richie sighed and lay his guitar on the bed next to him and patted for Eddie to sit down as well.

Eddie walked over and sat on the bed, it was normal for Eddie to be in Richie’s room like this, they were comfortable next to each other, leaning against the wall in such close proximity. Richie would usually love having Eddie in his room, all to himself, having long late-night talks about God knows what. But now it was different, the tone was fucked. Richie was nervous and upset and _scared_ , he was upset with himself about his behavior last night that he _unfortunately_ remembered, and he was nervous to even have the conversation with Eddie. Scared… goes without saying.

“Richie… why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Richie asked, an honest question, because Eddie could have been referring to just about anything.

“You just… get so fucked up like that… you looked like shit this morning.”

“Oh, fuck that was you…” Richie ran his hands through his hair and brought his knees up, putting a face to the mysterious door closer from his morning hangover induced purge, an adorably _concerned_ face.

“Yes, it was me.” Eddie sounded confused, as if surprised that Richie didn’t realize it before. “And stop avoiding the question, why did you smoke like all of that guys weed and drink beer like it was fucking water? You could barely _walk_ and we were only there for like two hours.”

“I don’t know Eds.” But a part of him _did_ kind of know.

“That’s not right Richie.”

Whether Eddie was saying _‘that’s not right Richie’_ to refer to the fact that his answer was wrong, or that his actions were morally fucked, he would never know, but he responded as if he was referring to both.

“Listen Eddie, I owe you an apology…” Richie started.

“You remember everything?” Eddie asked a little shocked.

“Yeah I do… unfortunately.” Richie said, the last part mostly to himself.

“Well I’m sorry too… I don’t hate you… you know I don’t.” Eddie said, sweetly. His cheeks growing a bit pink as he looked at his fidgeting hands in his lap.

Richie struggled with a smirk on his face, he knew that his own actions were far more out of line than Eddies, and he felt adoration over the fact that he felt the need to apologize first.

“And _I’m_ sorry for screaming at you and getting so fucked up that it came to that.”

“I forgive you…”

There was an awkward silence as they both sat fidgeting with their hands in their laps. There was a tension in the air that Richie felt he could cut with a knife. He hated the fact that the tension was there, he hated _why_ the tension was there.

“So… who’s this guy you’re hanging out with?” Richie asked, avoiding eye contact with Eddie at all costs. He didn’t need to see the smile that spread across his face as he spoke about him.

“Oh… well…” Eddie started; a bit awkward because of the surprising question. “His name is Connor, he’s majoring in Physical Therapy, uhm… he’s on the football team and he’s a senior.”

“Sounds cool…” Richie mentally kicked himself over his awkward response.

“Yeah, he is I guess.”

“I guess?”

“Shut up.” Eddie punched his arm.

Richie laughed and massaged his arm like it ached.

“So, are we cool?” Eddie asked, scrunching his face a bit with the question.

“Yeah we’re _cool_ …” Richie said. “So, how big is his _wang_?” Richie needed to break the tension and know for sure if they did anything last night.

“Fucking Christ Richie!” He earned another punch on the arm for that. “We didn’t even do anything like that.”

“Yet?”

“I guess…” The blush that spread across Eddie’s cheeks then was sickening, Richie’s stomach wretched seeing what the thought of fucking around with this guy did to Eddie.

“Well you’ll have to fill me in when it gets there.” Richie said as nonchalant as he could muster.

“Yeah whatever…” Eddie said.

Richie reached for his guitar again and picked up the same rhythm he was working on before. Strumming through the first eight bars of the song a few times.

“Sounds good.” Eddie commented.

“Thanks.” Richie smiled at him. “Hey, when are you going to pick up the drums so we can get this show on the road?”

“Probably never.” Eddie teased back at him.

“Just drop out, you’ll have time then.” Richie suggested.

“Absolutely not, do you know how fast all those rock and roll guys turn to hardcore drugs? And I bet like a good majority of them have STD’s.”

“You got me there, Eds.” Richie smiled, happy that the usual cadence of their conversations was back.

“And I can’t afford a drum set, you know that. We’re all broke as fuck.”

“That we are, that we are!” Richie laughed.

Eddie laughed too and settled more comfortably against Richie’s bed, gazing at the ceiling with a light smile on his face.

Richie switched to a softer song to accommodate, a big part of him hoped that his choice of song would relay everything he wanted to say as he played the opening of ‘Love of My Life’ by Queen.

He repositioned himself on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he played. Watching Eddie’s face as he lay horizontal across the bed, hands crossed over his chest, resting comfortably as he listened to Richie’s guitar.

Over the years, Richie managed to combine the piano and guitar part as best he could for his playing abilities, making the song more recognizable. Eddie didn’t look at all phased by the song choice though, which part of Richie was thankful for. He was not at all ready for his confession and not at all ready to lose Eddie because of it.

So here they were, Richie pouring his heart into the song, close to singing the lyrics to the tune of his guitar. Eyebrows furrowed and face focused as he looked at Eddie as he played, glancing away every once in a while to check his chord placement. Eddie lay motionless, focusing on the tune of the music and letting it relax his body. Richie felt a twinge in his stomach at the thought that Eddie may be laying there looking forward to his date.

When the song ended he didn’t play anything else, they sat in the silence for a bit before Eddie smiled at him and left the room. Leaving Richie alone with his guitar and his thoughts. Dreading the moment that Eddie would announce he’s leaving for his date, dreading the moment he asks Bev for help with his outfit. Dreading the moment Bev or Ben would shoot him that _look_ … that look of _pity_ the look that said ‘ _Richie, I am so sorry that the love of your life is going on a date with a guy that is in fact NOT YOU.’_

Richie hated everything about the situation and wished he could just leave, he wished that he didn’t piss Eddie off last night, he could have prevented the whole situation of he just made Eddie his priority, if _he_ captivated him instead of fucking _Connor_. He could have shaken that fucking girl off of his arm just a _little_ sooner. He could have fucking explained the situation to Eddie.

Richie pushed his guitar aside and stood up. He pulled on a tee shirt before walking downstairs and out onto the back porch. He planted his ass in his deck chair of choice and groped for the pack of Marlboro Reds on the table, he lit one and leaned back in his chair. It was only a matter of time before Bev followed him out here and he wasn’t looking forward to what she had to say.

He worked his way through about half of a cigarette before she crept through the sliding glass door. She situated herself across the table from him and he slid the pack over to her. She lit her own cigarette and took a long drag before speaking.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it but I just want to say a few things that are on my mind, then we don’t have to talk about it ever again.” She said, flatly, almost _stern_.

Richie groaned a bit, but waited for her to continue.

She puffed on the cigarette for a second before talking again, Richie leaned forward in his chair, falling to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I just wanted to say that Eddie isn’t going anywhere. If this relationship _happens_ , at all its going to be his first _real_ boyfriend, and I honestly don’t even think that Connor guy is his type.”

“What’s his type then?” Richie couldn’t help but interrupt to ask, amused a bit.

“His type is you, _obviously…_ ”

Richie scoffed and shook his head.

“And frankly I talked to him for a minute, he’s not very interesting either…in fact he’s kind of a dick.” She chuckled a bit and it made Richie feel better. “All I’m trying to say is, let’s let this thing take its course, let’s be supportive and _kind_ and then when Eddie figures out that he’s in love with you, you can swoop in and give him all you got.”

Richie smirked at the ground, comforted by her words, but put off by her confidence that Eddie felt the same about him.

“Thanks, Bevvie…”

She nodded and flashed him a comforting closed mouth smile. “I love you Richie, everything is going to be fine…” She kicked her foot at his leg a bit.

“I know, I just hate it…” He took a long and firm drag on his cigarette as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I know you do.”

He felt the urge to cry or yell or hug Bev and he couldn’t decide on one, so he just sat. Staring off into the house, eyes drifting from the window to his bedroom to Eddie’s next to it.

“You know I started working on that one Thin Lizzy song you like.” Richie thought to say then.

“I know, I heard you. It sounds good.”

“We should play together again.” Richie said, smiling, reminiscing about the times he would pluck his guitar alongside Bev’s keyboard playing.

“No, I am not as good as you, it’ll sound fucky.” She said, toying with the cigarette in her fingers.

“Now you know that’s not true.” Richie said, because it wasn’t. Bev wasn’t half bad at playing the keyboard, in fact she was pretty decent.

“Whatever, maybe we will sometime but not today.” She said taking another drag.

“Why not today?”

“Oh shit, I lied I actually have to say one more thing about the situation.” She said, a flinched look on her face.

“What?” Richie asked, monotone and a little pissed.

“The date is tonight.” She said flatly, obviously mentally kicking herself that she forgot to mention such a vital detail earlier in the conversation.

“Oh…”

“And I think we should go shopping or something, just you and me. We can go on our own date.” She said a little softer now.

“Bev we have no money.”

“ _Thrift_ shopping.” She sighed, laughing a little.

Richie couldn’t help but chuckle at the ground at that, the whole topic of them all being broke was almost comical.

“Doesn’t he need your help getting all cute for his date later? Miss fashion designer?” Richie asked, stamping out his cigarette in the ash tray.

“If he asks I won’t give it to him…” She laughed. “Or I’ll put him in a stupid outfit and make him look silly.”

“That’s pretty much impossible but okay.” Richie laughed, comforted by her petty disapproval of the relationship.

“You’re right, Eddie is adorable in everything.”

Richie sighed and ran a hand through his hair again.

“Come on, you’ve got to get out of the house, and it’ll be fun! I found five bucks in my jeans from the other day and that’s like a hundred bucks at Goodwill.” She kicked his shin lightly under the table.

“Fine, but I don’t want to drive.” He tended to hate driving in general, but hated it especially when he was in a shitty mood. Usually whenever they went somewhere in Richie’s shitty green sedan, Eddie drove, because Eddie was usually attached to his hip and went with him everywhere.

Opposite to Richie, Eddie loved driving, even though sometimes his road rage was a bit extreme. Sadly because of his mother he wasn’t able to get himself a car in high school like how Richie, Mike, Bill, Ben, and Stan were. However, both he and Bev both had their licenses. Suddenly the feeling of leaving the house without Eddie hurt his throat, a ball forming at the base of it as he glanced back up to his window.

“That’s fine as long as you don’t mind me driving your car.” She said smiling.

“Deal.” Richie said before he got up and walked past her into the house, fucking up her hair as he went passed, relaying to her that he was feeling a bit better.

He went to the kitchen and tugged a banana off of the bunch and pealed it as he walked upstairs to his room, he opened the window as silently as he could and ate the entire banana in about two bites before tossing the peel in proximity to Bev who’s back was facing him. She didn’t have to turn around to see where the peel came from, she flipped him the bird over her shoulder and took a drag on her almost finished cigarette.

Richie laughed and shut the window. He then found some more presentable clothes to wear for the remainder of the day and picked up his guitar again. He settled into a comfortable spot on the ground in front of his amp and played whatever songs came to his mind, his head bowed and his hair created a shield in his peripheral vision, if someone were to have entered the room in this moment there would be no way of him knowing, his field of vision and sense of sound were both jaded as he focused on his playing.

He ran through a few of his favorite guitar solos, jumping around from Lynyrd Skynyrd to Ozzy Osbourne, then to Pink Floyd and even the Beatles. He bobbed his head and hummed the lyrics to some of the songs. If he were to play for a bit longer he would probably even start to sing, but he wasn’t able to get there because he was interrupted by none other than Eddie. Apparently having knocked on the door, and walked across the room to jab a foot into Richie’s back, making him jump and crane his neck to see who it was.

“Does this look good?” Eddie asked, arms outstretched as he took a few steps back to show Richie his outfit.

He wore a deep red sweater underneath a pair of light wash jean overalls, of which he had one strap unclipped and the pant legs cuffed. Richie felt his eyebrows come together at the sight, whether it was his brain focusing on taking advantage of the moment where he was given permission to stare at Eddie for as long as he wanted, or if it was out of hurt for the fact that he wasn’t the one that Eddie was dressing up for.

“You’d look good in anything you put on Eds.” Richie said, a little quieter than normal for him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked, a little amused.

Richie just shrugged and went back to playing his guitar, planning to leave his comment ambiguous.

“Whatever, I’m going to go ask Bev.” Eddie said and turned to leave the room.

Richie responded with his sloppy rendition of Brian May’s solo in Bohemian Rhapsody, and nodded his head to Eddie, but also along to the tune of the piece. He hadn’t worked on the song much, mostly because he was afraid of it. He knew that the song had had many interpretations, but the one he tended to resort to was far too personal to dwell on the song for too long.

He obviously _loved_ the piece, all kinds of weird and unique that Richie tended to admire about the band, but listening to the song had just been hard.

He strummed along furrowing his brow when he had to strain his fingers through a more difficult measure in a song, working hard to get the notes right and in time with the rest. His goal was always first and foremost to do the songs justice, playing the piece in the correct time signature and with the correct notes. His _second_ goal, was to make it his own, adding a riff where one wasn’t before, lengthening or shortening a note here and there, simply adding his own flair. It made the pieces more fun to play, because it was something different compared to when the songs would play on the radio.

He loved playing like this, but what he loved more was playing with his friends, Bev had been the only one to really put time in with him in the past. Mike had come over every once in a while too, playing along with his trombone, but it was usually just Bev who really put time in with him. She would play her keyboard and he would play guitar late into the night in his parents’ basement in high school. Playing their favorite songs and also making some up, with weird rhythms or key signatures. He couldn’t really remember those songs now, but he’s sure once they sat together again they would find their way out of their fingertips.

Bev had moved her keyboard to Richie’s basement at some point in high school when they started playing together, the reason being that Richie, or any of them for a matter of fact were not allowed in her apartment. At least not until something finally happened about her dad in the summer after their freshman year of high school. Bev was free of his wrath and her aunt had moved to Derry to support her through the rest of her public schooling career.

Richie was always amazed with the fact that her aunt dropped everything and moved from Chicago to Derry to do that for her. She really saw how much Bev’s rag-tag group of losers meant to her and decided to move across state lines so they could all stick together. Bev’s aunt was a kind woman, she let the boys in the house, understanding that none of them had ill intentions with Bev and that they were pretty much her family at this point. She usually had a pot of soup on the stove or a casserole in the oven when they would hang out there, always providing a home-cooked hot meal for Bev and her friends.

Richie had a lot of respect for her and loved her like she was his _own_ aunt, which is why he attended the funeral with Bev when they got word of her death in their freshman year of college. They all went, each affected by her passing but also to be there for Bev. Going home that summer was tough for her, what ultimately happened was Bev sold the house her aunt left to her to the bank and got a pretty good check, of which she dumped right into her college savings and moved in with Ben for the summer.

Richie managed to strum his way through the period of time in which Eddie left for his date, Richie happily missed out on the experience of Connor marching up to their front door, knocking and awaiting an answer. Eddie opening it and smiling his bright and beautiful smile as he left with him in his car. Though Richie wasn’t there to see it, he dwelled on it all the same, pissed at how smug the guy must have looked, or how happy he must have been. Richie would never know what Connor’s face actually read, but in his mind he settled on something smug. A nasty face, evil smirk and glint in his eye, prepared for a night of romance and whatever else with the most attractive guy in all of Maine.

Richie was sprawled on his rug, guitar on his chest as he lazily plucked along to his thoughts, his fingers running on minds of their own to tunes they had memorized. He didn’t realize his eyes were closed until he had to open them to see who was next to invade his bubble. It was none other than Bev, towering over him and nudging at his arm with her socked toes.

“Hey, come on let’s go.” She said then walked to his bedside table to grab his keys.

He placed his guitar on the ground somewhere next to him and reached his arms up. “Be a dear and help your old man to his feet huh?”

She laughed and shoved the keys into the pocket of her jeans, standing on his toes she grabbed his hands. With no warning she tugged him to his feet.

“Okay let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” She dug through the Richie’s small pile of shoes next to his dresser and tossed him a pair of his sneakers.

He toed them on and followed her out the door. He walked to his own car in the driveway and fell into the passenger’s seat, he reached for the pack of Marlboros he kept in there and lit one as Bev started the car. Bev rolled the front windows down about an inch or two and he passed her the cigarette he had just lit as she pulled onto the main road. He then lit his own and reclined the seat a bit.

“So, I guess its official huh?” Richie said.

“What?” Bev asked him, a bit confused.

“Eds is on a date.”

“Don’t dwell on it, I’m sure its going to be nothing compared to the date you’re going to take him on.” Bev teased.

“That’ll never happen.” Richie stated matter of factly.

“You’re wrong.” Bev said, mimicking his tone.

Richie scoffed and flicked on the radio, tuning it to a station that was actually playing music. It took a few stations to find one playing music and not a talk show or commercials. When he did find something playing music however, it was music that reminded him of Eddie, seventies dance music he loved so much. Beats that were easy to jog or groove too, sounds that couldn’t quite be matched to any instrument besides a keyboard.

He decided in the end to leave it on, he figured he would have been thinking about Eddie anyway and he knew that Bev enjoyed the music too. He lay back in his seat and focused on enjoying the ride and his cigarette.

He usually didn’t smoke like this, lighting one after another like how he’d been today, but he was stressed. More stressed compared to normal anyway. It helped to calm his nerves and gave his hands and mouth something to do.

He was grateful that Bev decided that he had to leave the house, he was sure he would overthink himself to death on his bedroom floor with his guitar in his hands if she hadn’t have gotten her way. He was happy that she was going out of her way on a Saturday to help him get through Eddie’s first date.

His first _fucking_ date, and Richie wasn’t the one to be taking him. He always hoped and dreamed about taking Eddie on a date, he’d probably take him to a movie, or to an arcade if he could scrounge enough cash for them to actually have a good time. He’d probably find a good restaurant in town, something _hole in the wall-esc_ with a romantic, dimly-lit interior with authentic Italian cuisine, not just because Richie would be able to make a joke about his favorite nick-name for Eddie, but because he knew Italian food was is favorite.

Richie would do everything he could to be sure that Eddie would have the time of his life on their date together, he might even walk him to his bedroom door and kiss him outside of it as if he was dropping him off at his house back in Derry, the film-perfect ending to a date. As if they were seventeen again, when Richie should have made his move.

Richie pulled himself out of his thoughts with a deep sigh and took a long drag on his cigarette. He glanced out the window and saw that they were almost there. Bev was long finished with her cigarette by now and her fingers were focused with tapping the steering wheel along to the song blaring though the speakers. Something Richie didn’t quite recognize, but she seemed to be enjoying the hell out if it, bobbing her head and tapping her fingers. Richie huffed a smile and was grateful for her all over again.

Not long after, they were pulling into the parking lot of their local Goodwill, Bev pulled into a space and turned off the car. They walked into the building like they owned the place, Richie tossing his cigarette as he glided to the entrance, holding the door open for Bev, like the Queen she was.

She flashed him a warm squinty-eyed smile over her shoulder as she passed, and Richie returned it with a wink. She practically glided straight towards the clothes racks and Richie found himself walking towards the small selection of vinyl records.

He fingered through them and lazily glanced at the sleeves, most of them weren’t anything he cared to own or has ever heard of, the only ones that piqued his interest were ones he already had. When he finished looking through them all, he met up with Bev, who already had an arm full of clothes that were straining her ability to swipe through the hangers on the metal racks.

“Here, hold these…” She said, handing off the pile to him.

“Who are all of these even for?” He asked, which was a genuine question.

Bev had _always_ helped each of the losers embrace their fashion choices, and _always_ helped them keep up to date on their closets. Buying them new pieces when she noticed them repeating outfits or when they ripped an un-fixable hole in a pair of pants. Surprisingly, each of them were eager to pay her back, appreciating the effort and thought that she put into the purchase. Today was no different.

She pulled a dark blue knit turtleneck sweater out of the pile and held it out for Richie to see.

“I thought that this would be nice for Stan, it’s going to be cold out soon…” She said, reaching next for a nice pair of Levi’s. “These are Mike’s size and I know that he doesn’t really have jeans in this color. The rest are for Ben.”

Richie glanced at the rest of the pile and noted another pair of jeans and a few tee shirts.

“I think Stan is going to _love_ that sweater.” Richie said, because he knew he would.

“I know right, he’s going to look so cute in it.” She swiped through rack a bit more and Richie followed her, scanning the clothes with his eyes as she went.

They both sharply inhaled when they came across a black and white checkered short sleeved button up shirt, Richie knew it was calling his name and Bev knew just the same. She giggled as she pulled it off the rack.

“I think we both know who this is for.”

“The one with the best fashion sense in the house obviously.”

“No not me, _you_ dummy.” She laughed, draping the shirt over his shoulder.

Richie laughed and followed her through the rest of the rack they were on. Nothing else really caught their attention, so they turned to swipe through the next one. This rack held men’s jackets, most of which were the puffy ones you wore in the dead of winter, but there were some fashionable wind breakers and jean jackets in the mix.

Bev tugged out a dark wash jean jacket and checked the size, then held the sleeve of the jacket up to Richie’s arm, checking to see if it would be long enough. Richie had always been the weird lanky guy, too tall and long to walk properly without tripping or kicking something on accident, so Bev checking for measurements like this was completely understood.

“I could probably sew some stuff on here. We could distress it too…it’ll look really cool.” Bev said, focused and mostly to herself as she ran her eyes and fingers along parts of the jacket, flicking each of the buttons to see if they were on the verge of falling off.

“That sounds cool to me.” Richie said, encouraging her idea.

They both knew that he’d wear anything she threw at him. She once rambled about how he had been her favorite to dress because not only did he ‘ _somehow look good in everything_ ’ but he wore whatever she put on him. He enjoyed just about everything she picked out for him as well, fun colors and crazy patterns. He made a statement wherever he went thanks to his live-in stylist Miss Beverly Marsh.

“Fuck yeah it sounds cool to you.” She cheered and laid the jacket over his shoulder, on top of the shirt they found moments ago.

“Damn we’re finding a shit ton of shit today.” Richie pointed out.

“Yeah, some other rag-tag group of wierdos must have purged their closets.”

They swiped through a few more jackets until they came across one that caught Richie’s eye, a fluffy windbreaker, colored neon pink, yellow, and white, the size checked out to be just right for who he had in mind.

“We should get this for Eddie, he’d love it.” Richie said, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he admired the jacket and imagined how adorable Eddie would look in it.

“ _Would_ he love it? Or are you just imagining how cute he’d be in it?” Bev said, checking the size for herself and doing a once over of the seams and zipper to make sure everything was intact.

“Both.”

“Yeah me too.” Bev laughed and added the jacket to the stack.

Usually whenever they came, they left with two, maybe three pieces. The place was usually slim pickings because of how close in proximity it was to a bunch of broke teens and young adults going to college. Today was a surprising stark contrast, Bev found a few more pieces for the rest of the gang, Richie shared her excitement over the later presentation of their findings.

A part of Richie fell into a moment of a kind of fucked up fantasy where they were all in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, and he and Bev ventured out to find supplies for the group. It sure as hell felt that way with a mere glance at the display of their local Goodwill, Richie was sure that if Stan had ever stepped foot in here himself, that he would shit about five bricks and walk right out. The displays constantly looked like they were ransacked and furiously tossed up. The bookshelves were a mess, titles reading upside-down and backwards, toy display shelves were in complete disarray, miss matched, disgusting, drawn on, and simply _broken_ toys scattered in no order whatsoever. The place always had a sort of _musty_ smell that lingered on the clothes they bought until they washed them.

They always made the best of it when they shopped here though, usually Richie and Eddie floated nearby to Bev, doing their own search through the racks. Richie swiping through and Eddie watching as he went, grossed out by touching all of the clothes before they could be washed to his standards. He would always smack at Richie’s arm when he swiped to a piece that he was intrigued by, Richie loved moments like that. Eddie being so comfortably himself, getting excited and giddy when he would find a sweater or pair of shorts that he really liked.

Now, it was just him and Bev, having swiped through just about all but the kids’ section they had quite the stack. Bev had gone all out grabbing pieces for herself, most of which from the women’s section.

“What do you think, should we try our shit on so that we know we’re not wasting money?” She asked.

“That sounds smart.”

“Of course it does, _I_ said it.” She laughed and lead the way to the family dressing room at the far end of the store.

They received a weird look from the old woman working the register as they went into the stall together, but neither of them cared to comment about it. Richie dumped their pile of clothes onto the bench and Bev started to dig through, hanging up what they were going to try on. They both stripped to their underwear and started to pull on various clothes they picked out for themselves.

Richie and Bev had a moment of excitement over a pair of pleather cargo pants they found in the women’s section. Bev had _insisted_ that Richie get them, and he saw somewhat of a comedic flair in him showing up to his chemistry lab in _pleather cargo pants_ , so he added them to the pile. He pulled those pants on now and turned to model them for Bev.

“Okay, these might just be the best fucking pants ever.” Richie laughed at how perfectly they sagged and shined in the florescent lighting.

“Okay those are fucking amazing.” She reached and cinched them at his hips, catching on to the fact that they were a bit too big. “You’ll need a belt with them, but if you don’t leave the store with these today I don’t think I could forgive you.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m getting them then.” Richie spun a bit and looked at himself in the mirror. At first he thought that the pants would be funny, but they were actually kind of _growing_ on him.

“Here put this on with them.” Bev tossed him a bright _extremely seventies_ short sleeve button up shirt, neon pink, yellow and black shapes meshing together like an acid trip across the fabric.

He unbuttoned it completely and shrugged it on, in the time it took for him to do that Bev had already tried on another outfit. Richie adjusted the shirt on himself as he looked in the mirror.

“No, button this one, but leave the top few undone.” She said, tugging off the shirt she had just tried and sorting it into one of two piles she started, ones to keep and ones to go back.

Richie did what he was told and threaded the buttons through their appropriate holes, all but the top two.

“ _Ooh_ I get it.” Richie said as he looked at himself in the mirror then.

The shirt fit him well, Richie felt good about himself as he admired the way it looked.

“Yeah see? That looks great! There’s your outfit for Monday honestly.” Bev said, trying on the last of her choices.

Richie didn’t have much else to try on, just the checkered shirt and the jean jacket, of which he shrugged over what he wore now. The jacket fit him nice, the sleeves in fact, _did_ fit his crazy long arms and the shoulder seam hit him where it was supposed to according to Bev. He liked the jacket a lot, he admired the way he looked in the mirror with his hands in its pockets.

He didn’t feel like he had to try on the checkered shirt because it was the same size and cut of the one he had on already. He instead opted to just put his original clothes back on and then got to work collecting the pile of clothes for the rest of the Losers as well as his own. Bev handled her own piles and stuck whatever she decided she didn’t want on a ‘go back’ rack outside of the dressing room.

On their way to the check out they passed a shelf of ceramic nick-nacks, one of which caught Richie’s eye. A little yellow bird sitting on a branch, looking so sweet and kind, just sitting there almost smiling at him in a weird beaked way.

“Okay stop everything, we have to get this for Stan.” Richie said, stopping Bev in her tracks and reaching for the small ceramic bird statue with his free hand.

“That is so fucking cute.”

“I’m buying it.” Richie decided and then they went to check out.

Surprisingly the total for _all_ of the clothes plus Stan’s bird was only about eleven bucks. Richie felt bad for ever considering that the store was apocalyptic and dirty and thanked it in his head for granting them with great fucking deals.

Soon they were leaving, but instead of going home, Bev drove them to their local corner store, she bought them both slushies and another pack of Marlboros to replenish their stash on the back porch. Bev poured herself a cup of the cherry red flavor, and Richie dispensed a little bit of each flavor in his own cup, Cola, blue raspberry, cherry, and some yellow flavor he couldn’t quite pin.

“You’re so subtly chaotic, I love it.” Bev commented.

“I know you do.” Richie said as he sipped his slushie and held the door open for her.

The day had slipped past them, the sun had set about an hour ago when they were in the midst of their shopping frenzy, the time on the radio in Richie’s car read eight o’clock.

“He should be back now, you think?” Richie asked, nervous to see Eddie, hoping that he didn’t want to talk his ear off about his date.

“Probably, knowing Eddie he probably still has his mom’s curfew ingrained in his head.” Bev said, slurping her drink as she drove.

“Yeah you’re right.” Richie chuckled a bit. Trying to distract his head from spiraling.

Soon after, they were home and carrying their bags of finds into the house, tossing them onto the couch and screaming for everyone to gather in the living room. Richie was only a little surprised to see Eddie trot down the stairs, still looking like a dream in his date attire.

“Oh shit, good day huh?” Mike said, commenting on their heaps of bags on the couch.

“Fuck yeah Mikey, it’s like Christmas morning. Except broke and used.” Richie said.

Everyone found seats on the second couch and some armchairs they had in the room.

“Okay…” Bev said, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out the first item, of which was the pair of Levi’s they found for Mike. “These are for Mike.” She said holding the pants out and grinning hard, excited about the good find.

“Oh nice!” Mike said, as he stood to grab the pants. “These are perfect! Thanks Bev!”

“And Richie!” Richie yelled.

“ _And Richie._ ” Mike corrected himself, laughing.

Bev passed out a few more clothes, tossing a few flannels in Bill and Ben's direction, instructing them to grab their sizes. Then she came across the blue turtleneck they found for Stan.

“Oh my God Stan you’re going to love this.” She said as she bunched up the sweater and tossed it to Stan.

He unfurled it and held it in front of himself to get a good look at it.

“This is nice, thanks guys.” Stan said as he ran his fingers over the knitting and looked at the tag.

“ _OH!_ And Richie picked this one out!” Bev said pulling out the windbreaker he found for Eddie. “For you Eddie!” She held out the jacket as if she wanted him to come over and get it instead of tossing it over to him.

“Oh, I like it!” Eddie said as he walked over to Bev holding the jacket.

“Here try it on!” Bev unzipped it and held it so he can lace his arms through and shrug it over his shoulders.

Richie’s eyes watched as the jacket slid up his arms, eyes halting at some place on his neck. His heart sank into his stomach, which felt as if it dropped due to the weight of his heart and fell through his fucking _ass,_ because there on the neck of Eddie Kaspbrak was a hickey. A rose wood mark on the side of his neck near his jugular vein. Richie felt his face fall and himself glance away, so fast he felt his hair shift on his head.

He brought his hand up to fiddle with his lips in attempt to mask the fact that his face had morphed from his usual goofy shit eating grin to something more of a frown. A frown because Eddie had a _hickey_ a _love bite_ and Richie wasn’t the one to give it to him. This guy must have really been _something_ for Eddie to have let him do that, which only bothered Richie more.

Richie tried his best to shake the thoughts from his head and be happy for his best friend that he found someone. But instead, his mind simply repressed the thoughts, and ignored any surge of happiness he tried to force upon himself.

He then admired Eddie in the jacket, he was showing it off to Bev, his hands shoved in the pockets and his hip jutting out. He looked fucking _more_ than adorable in the jacket, bright colors looked so good on him. Accenting his tanned skin and freckles. Richie couldn’t help but notice the way the jacket cinched perfectly at his hips, it having no business covering up one of the parts of Eddie that Richie loved most. Richie didn’t allow his eyes to linger there for too long, just enough to get the picture and not draw attention to the fact that he was literally sitting there staring at his best friend’s ass in front of the rest of their friends.

“You look good Eddie!” Bev said, smoothing the coat over his shoulders. “Richie tell him he looks good!” Bev said, almost demanding.

“You look good enough to eat Eddie-Bear.” Richie said the first thing that came to mind, he leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees and cupped his face with his hands as he spoke. He put almost no effort into his expression and tone of voice as they were each already resorting to somewhat of a dream-like state.

“Ugh don’t fucking _call me that._ ” Eddie said, repulsed by the nickname. “But thanks… for the jacket and stuff….”

“No prob Bob.” Richie said, settling back into a more normal tone of voice.

“Oh! Richie put this on! You guys can match!” Bev tossed Richie the shirt he tried on at the store, neon pink, yellow, and black. The only difference between the coloration of Richie’s shirt and Eddie’s jacket was the white versus the black.

Richie did what he was told and stripped himself of the tee shirt he had been wearing, tossing it towards the stairs and slipped the button-down shirt over his head. The first two buttons were still undone from when he tried them on in the store. He adjusted the collar and various hems of the shirt and therefore didn’t notice when Bev positioned Eddie next to him and put her hands on her hips.

“See? Match made in heaven!” Bev said, beaming.

Richie snorted a laugh and looked to Eddie, who was blushing and trying to cover it up with a laugh of his own. Richie ignored the first thought that came to his head about Eddie’s reaction and decided that it was just a bodily reaction to the fact that he had just come home from a date with another guy and was blushing because of that somehow… right?

“Well Eds, let me know when you want to go to the disco or something.” Richie laughed and punched him in the shoulder before settling back into his own seat.

Eddie laughed and shed himself of the jacket.

Bev passed out the rest of the clothes, then they finally got to the bird statue that Richie found for Stan. Bev made _no mention_ of the fact that it had been Richie who found the statue, like how she did with Eddie’s jacket. Richie felt the urge to clear the air and mention how it had been him who found the statue, then before he said anything his mind registered the fact that Bev had done it on purpose. Making Eddie’s jacket finding a special affair, and Stan’s bird statue a friendly one.

“Thanks guys.” Stan said, smiling fondly at the statue.

Not long after, Stan had collected the clothes and put them all into a hamper to be washed at the laundromat in the morning. They each found something to eat for dinner. Some had leftovers, some made something fresh, and those who went by the name Richie, had a bowl of cereal.

After their late dinner Richie decided to turn in for the night, a little out of character for him to turn in so early, but in his defense, today had been draining. He hopped into the shower and tuned out the world for a moment, he washed himself off and shaved his face. He hummed along to a song in his head as he showered, which after a while turned into singing. He didn’t _belt_ the lyrics or anything, just sang along to Freddie Mercuries vocals in his head. The opening sequence of Bohemian Rhapsody struck something in his heart and mind in the moment for him to sing along.

When he was finished showering he patted himself dry with a towel and wrapped it around his hips before he walked across the hall to his room to get dressed, he pulled on a pair of boxers, light blue with a retro banana print on them. Something in his mind told him to also put a shirt on, so he did. He tugged on a random black tee shirt, not caring to see what was printed on the front.

He left his bedside lamp on as he lay down, strumming on his guitar with the amp unplugged. The sound was raw, and the tune of the chords was a bit drowned out by the plucking of the pick. He played along to the tunes in his head, most of which slow and a bit somber.

His attention was caught by a knock at the door, Richie didn’t have to say anything because it was second nature for Eddie to just walk in after he struck his knuckles against the wood a few times. Richie noticed that he seemed to have readied himself for bed as well, his hair a bit damp from a shower and his cheeks flushed for probably the same reason. His expression was a bit worried and maybe even a little sad as he came into the room.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Richie asked, genuine concern carried through his voice as he sat up, placing his guitar on the ground next to his bed.

“Umm, yeah I guess…” Eddie walked to sit next to him on the bed. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” Richie crossed his legs and turned more to face him.

Eddie nodded and stared hard at a spot on the floor, but he didn’t say anything, just sat and starred as if he was unsure of how to start talking. He swallowed hard and Richie couldn’t help the way his eyes were caught on the hickey on his neck, bobbing with the shift of his skin.

“How was your date?” Richie asked then, monotone and quiet, a stark contrast to his usual self.

“Good…” Eddie nodded and his face reddened. “We went to dinner…”

“And then he had desert.” Richie said, addressing the hickey on Eddie’s neck. Poking it softly like it was a button.

Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah…” His own hand shot up to brush a few fingers along the mark.

Richie was confused by his reaction, put off by how _put off_ Eddie had been, until it struck him.

“Wait, did you not want him to give that to you?” Richie asked, concerned now.

Eddie shook his head and furrowed his brows.

“Well what the fuck!?” Richie said then. “Why would he do that if you told him not to!?”

“I didn’t tell him not to.” Eddie defended. “I didn’t think to say that before we like started… you know…”

“Well that’s not just something you start fucking doing to someone. You can’t just fucking bite someone’s neck without consent that’s bull shit.” Richie was pretty pissed off now, not only was it fucked in general to do something like that to someone, but it struck a chord in Richie’s nerves because it was fucking _Eddie._

“It was just a fucking miss understanding. I guess he thought I’d be into that… and like I _am_ … or I _would be_ … just not with him… or at least not yet…” The last part sounded a bit like a question.

“Did you tell him you didn’t like that he did that?”

“Yes.”

“Good…” Richie felt a bit relieved; he was hoping that the guy would be decent enough to not pull more bullshit like that if he sees him again.

“Yeah…sorry.”

“For what?” Richie asked, entirely confused.

“You just got like really mad all of the sudden, like I broke your Zen or something.”

“Well of course I got mad Eds! This guy is trying to fucking eat you and I’m worried he won’t treat you right now.”

“He treat me fine up until that point.” Eddie said.

“Fine? That’s it, just fine?”

“No, he treat me good, he payed for dinner and stuff, he was really nice!” Eddie defended.

Richie didn’t feel as much as a twinge in his heart as he usually would have. Mostly because he realized that this guy may actually be kind of a piece of shit and he knew that Eddie’s tolerance for pieces of shit was very fucking small.

“Did he kiss you? Or did you kiss him?” Richie asked, he felt as if he knew the answer already.

“He kissed me.” Eddie said.

“Do you like him?” Richie couldn’t help the hurt that carried through his tone.

“I… think so…” Eddie scrunched his face. “I mean I could definitely see myself, _grow_ to like him.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Richie asked, a little amused and giddy at the fact that the answer wasn’t what he expected it to be.

“I don’t know… I mean he’s not _funny_ or anything.” Eddie’s face reddened. “It’s not like I have a lot of options…”

And he was right. Though they were in college and it was _supposed_ to be a cathartic experience that was filled with wonderous liberal opportunities, filled with pro LGBT fantasies and ample options. It just simply wasn’t, they were still in Maine after all, still stuck in a small town. Though the people here were nicer than they were in Derry, it was difficult to find a lot of gay guy’s open for experimentation or sparking a relationship.

Richie was sure that half of the guys he’s hooked up with here were straight guys trying to experiment with him. Eddie was never one to be too far into the closet, so naturally he gravitated towards people just as open as he was. Once Eddie came out to them, that was it. His fashion choice changed, his way of relaxing with them changed, and his demeanor all together was different. He seemed more _free_ , free to be himself and express himself how he wanted. Richie always admired that about him.

“Are funny people a turn on for you Eds?” Richie asked leaning closer to his space and wiggling his eyebrows. He wanted to fuck with him and bring him back to a good mood, away from whatever he was struggling with now.

Eddie gasped. “ _No!_ ” Was all he said, his cheeks flushed so hard his neck went red as well, his fingers came up to fiddle with his lips as he sat there flushed.

“You are so fucking lying. They totally are.” Richie teased him; his voice giddy with laughter.

“Just shut the fuck up dickwad.” Eddie couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face, the rest of which held the scowl Richie had grown to love, oh so much.

“I’ve got to work on my comedy routine then.” Richie said, still laughing, crossing his arms and laying back onto the bed.

“No you fucking don’t, asshole.”

Richie wasn’t sure how to interpret the statement, was he saying that he didn’t have to because he was already hilarious? Or was he saying that he wasn’t funny at all. Richie settled for something along the lines of Eddie saying he wasn’t funny, and ignored the fact that Eddie was always the first to howl with laughter whenever Richie was on one of his joke spirals.

“Whatever you say man, we all know I’m the funniest one in the house.” Richie poked his foot into his side from his spot laying on the bed.

“Whatever you say dumb ass, I’m going to bed now.” Eddie chuckled a bit and stood up, walking towards the door.

Richie smiled at him as he went, he couldn’t help it, Eddie just kind of did that to him.

“This helped a lot… thanks Richie.” Eddie said as he stood in front of the door.

“I don’t really know what I was helping with, but I’m happy to help.” He switched his voice into something more British and serious. “You know my office is always open lad, feel free to stop by any time you feel necessary.”

His weak shot at a weird joke seemed to stick because Eddie chuckled as he opened the door.

“Aha! See!?” Richie said pointing at him. “You think I’m hilarious!”

“Fucking _shut up!_ ” Eddie scolded as he closed the door behind him.

Richie just laughed to himself and sunk further down on the bed, positioning his hands behind his head. A goofy smile plastered on his face, something that happened every time he fell deeper in love with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic Depictions of Vomit (Hangover Vomit) 
> 
> This chapter was super fun to write! I always had this head-cannon that Bev kind of encourages all of their fashion choices and helps them build their wardrobes and I am so happy to have finally written it!


	3. Fuck Chem Lab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shitty chemistry lab period calls for a night of getting high with his friends, well all of his friends except for Stan and Eddie...unless???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for trigger warnings!

Chemistry lab was something that made Richie want to stab himself in the eye. He used to think that chemistry was cool, explosive reactions and things turning different colors and what not, but now it was a devil spawn. Not only were the experiments they did boring and dumb, but they took an _unnecessary_ amount of time to do and his teaching assistant was an ass hole.

 _Now_ though he was stressing about the added layer of fucking _awkwardness_ … because that fucking girl was in there. Her station was so close to his, that not looking at her or possibly even talking to her was going to be difficult to avoid for an hour and a half.

He ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach about the whole thing as he walked to his lab. The most annoying part was that his lab was his official _last thing of the week_. His slot was for two thirty on a Friday, it was the last thing he had to tackle which almost bugged him more. Not only did he dread it all week, but it was like the final boss in a video game. The most annoying thing he had to deal with, it was going to be confusing and frustrating and he might even have to start over a few times.

He pulled open the door of the building and trudged all the way to his lab room. The goggles he had to wear hung around his neck, he usually didn’t put them on until absolutely necessary. They were the cherry on top of all of the annoying shit about lab, not only did they fog up so fucking much he had to squint, but they barely fit around his glasses. The goggles pushed them into his nose and temples so that by the time he could take them off he had a headache.

He tossed his book bag onto the shelf in the room designated for their personal belongings and walked to his lab station, where his pre-lab quiz was there waiting for him. Always an annoying little test about your knowledge of last week’s experiment. Richie filled it in, knowing he at least got eight out of the ten correct and dropped it off at the front of the room, exchanging it for this week’s lab manual.

He skipped all of the material about _why_ they were doing the lab, the part that was supposed to match up their experimenting to what they were learning in lecture. He instead just went to reading the experiment, once he got a basic idea of what they were to do he got to work, pulling everything out of his drawer that he needed and then leaving the room to stop by the order window to get the rest of the shit he needed.

When he finally had everything, he got to work boiling water over the Bunsen burner, a set up that Eddie Kaspbrak would definitely have a heart attack over. A metal rod spewing gas only to be ignited to become a blue flame heating up a glass beaker of water seated only on a metal ring with a wire gauze beneath it. The whole thing held only by a metal stick that wobbled if you nudged it a bit with your arm. The whole thing screamed danger, but Richie didn’t mind it so much, in fact it was his favorite part, simply because it made him think of Eddie.

He got everything else ready for the experiment and now had to wait for the water to boil so he could proceed. He would usually take this moment to shoot the shit with one of his classmates, but he didn’t really want to paint himself as open for discussion in front of that girl who he _really_ didn’t want to talk to. He wasn’t ready for the confrontation or awkward conversation about him rejecting her last weekend.

Behind him however he heard her and another girl whispering, some quiet and some not, obviously trying to avoid the attention of their T.A. who was lurking somewhere across the room. Through his eavesdropping Richie learned that the girl’s name was in fact Veronica. They chatted casually behind him for a few seconds before the conversation fell flat.

Richie’s water was no where close to boiling when he felt a tap at the back of his shoulder. He held back the urge to sigh when he turned around to see Veronica.

“Hey Richie, I just wanted to apologize for the other night…” She whispered, but it was more of a stage whisper because just about everyone in their close vicinity struck a glance in their direction.

“Oh, its okay…” Richie said trying to wave her off.

“You know you should have just _told_ me…” She laughed a bit, as if Richie was supposed to know what she was talking about.

“I should have told you what?” Richie questioned.

“That you’re _gay._ ”

“What!?” Richie’s voice was a shrill whisper. “No, no, no I’m not—”

“I mean, it’s fine! And your secret is safe with me, you don’t have to worry.”

But the dumb ass ‘secret’ _wasn’t_ safe with her because just about everyone that shot them a glance earlier turned with raised eyebrows at her remark.

Richie felt his stomach drop, all of those times Henry Bowers and his gang would chase him through the halls, spewing insults and slurs all shaped around his sexuality, before Richie could even figure it out for himself, came rushing back to him. All of those times things got physical, Henry smashing his face in or kicking his ribs because of the way he walked with his arm around his friends.

“Listen…” Richie’s voice was a bit fearful. “I’m not _gay_ please stop saying that.” He spat the words through clenched teeth and turned to away from her to tend to his experiment.

He was in such a weird mind set about his own sexuality that instead of coming clear and telling her that he was bisexual, he went straight to _deny, deny, deny._

“Whatever you fucking say…” She said a bit angry.

Richie was too afraid to say something back at her, he focused hard on figuring out what the next step of the experiment was. He worked fast, and focused as hard as his brain would let him on finishing the experiment. The final step instructed him to test various parts of the experiment all over again to figure out an unknown solution, but instead of doing all of that he just fucking guessed so he could get out of that damn room as fast as he could.

He gave the beakers and utensils he used a quick rinse and put them back in his drawer, he tossed his finished lab booklet onto the front table next to the pile of quizzes. He was the first to leave the room, he swung his book bag on and tugged his goggles off, to hang around his neck again.

He walked as fast as he fucking could out of the building and thought about what he wanted to do next. All he wanted to do was smoke, but he needed something better than a cigarette. This week had been bullshit, between the last hour and a half and Eddie seeing Connor, Richie just needed something to calm the fuck down.

He walked straight to the dorm building of a guy who thought he was much better friends with Richie than he actually was. The guy who Richie bought weed from. He was sure to use every ounce of charm and humor that he had to platonically swoon the fuck out of this guy so he could get good weed for cheap, and it worked.

He didn’t stay long, just long enough to have a good conversation and buy a shit ton of weed. He wanted the whole house to be stoned off of their asses. Well, all but Eddie and Stan, because they still refuse to smoke and insist that it’s the ‘Devil’s lettuce.’ He left on a good note with a fuck ton of weed in his pocket.

The walk home was about thirty minutes, plenty of time for him to sulk and be pissed off. The faces of his classmate’s burned into his vision. Their reactions to Veronica’s conclusion, so definite and frankly kind of _wrong_. Richie wasn’t even _gay_ he was bisexual. He knew that none of his friends would tell her that he was gay, or even _bi._ They all knew how weird he was about it, fully acting on his sexuality when approached by someone he felt an attraction to, but never really being able to say it.

He was always terrified of the thought of there being another Henry Bowers, right around the corner ready to kick his fucking teeth in for being who we was. Richie felt like he was fourteen again, and coming to terms with who he was with Bowers constantly giving him shit. A constant reminder that he wasn’t _normal_ , that he wasn’t how people were ‘supposed to be.’

Richie knew now that that was all bullshit, people like who they like and that’s the end of it, there’s no _normal_. Everyone is different and being gay or bi, or anything in between is very much okay. It was the Losers that taught him this, his parents were accepting too, but they didn’t really see the mental toll it had on Richie. The Losers did though, without the example of Eddie and Bill being so open about who they were Richie would probably have never come out. Richie was thankful to them for that.

When he got home he burst through the door, startling Bill on the couch so hard the book he was reading fell onto his face.

“We are getting high as _fuck_!” Richie screamed so the whole house could hear.

Bev poked her head out of the door to her and Ben’s room. “Bad day Richie?” She asked, a bit sarcastically.

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it sister.” 

Bev shot him a confused look, as if she didn’t expect such an honest answer. Richie ran upstairs two at a time to retrieve rolling papers from his room. He knocked and opened Eddie’s door to see if he was in there, he wasn’t. After that he ran back downstairs and sat on the love seat in front of the coffee table in their family room.

Pulling the table closer to himself he emptied his pockets. Bev and Ben joined them in the family room and Mike came in a couple beats later. Richie leaned forward and got to work rolling out as many joints as he could. Bill set his book down and sat up on the couch to make room for Mike. Ben sat on one of their armchairs and Bev sat on the arm of it, with her feet between his legs.

The ‘Loser Library,’ otherwise known as their dining room was visible from the family room through a large archway across from Richie’s seat in front of the window opening to their front yard. Seated in the Loser Library had been a very frustrated appearing Eddie and a very focused Stan. The pen that Eddie held looked as if it could snap at any second, his knuckles were white, and his face was furious.

“Eds, come on in here and join us, let off some steam!” Richie said as he tossed Bev and Ben a joint.

“Fuck no, I have to finish this, and I really don’t feel like burning the fuck out of my throat and lungs. And please don’t fucking call me that.” He said so fast that only a trained ear could decipher what he said.

“It’s Friday night man, whatever the hell that is isn’t due until Monday at least.” Richie said, passing another joint to Bill and Mike.

Bev stood up. “And you don’t have to _smoke_ to _smoke_.” She raised her eyebrows at Richie before leaving the room.

“What the fuck does that even mean.” Eddie asked, frustration clear in his voice.

“She means shot-gunning.” Bill said casually, rolling the unlit joint between his fingers.

Bev came back then with a few lighters, tossing one to Bill and Mike and returning to her position on the armchair in front of Ben. Richie pulled his own lighter out of his pocket and lighted the twisted end of the massive joint he rolled for himself.

“Like this.” Bev said taking a drag from her own joint and leaning forward to expel it into Ben’s mouth.

The whole thing was very sensual, though they didn’t touch at all. Ben’s cheeks got red like how they did any time Bev was close, which was enough to tell Richie that he felt the same.

“That way it doesn’t burn your throat or anything.”

Bill and Mike passed the joint between each other, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch as they went through it.

“Oh.” Was all Eddie said.

“I’d be happy to help you out Eds, ease the tension in your brain, you might even be able to focus a bit more on your little project over there once you’ve got a good high goin’ on. Stan has probably smoked like four joints for how well he’s ignoring us over there.” Richie said before taking a drag on his joint.

“Fuck no I haven’t.” Stan said without looking up from his work.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Eddie said, though he looked like he was actually considering, which was surprising.

Richie had only been kind of joking when he offered, but now that Eddie seemed to have been thinking it over his nerves got the best of him. The thought of Eddie actually leaning close to Richie’s face to accept a hit, close enough to kiss, close enough to see every wave of brown in his eye, to count each peak of his eyelashes and every freckle on his cheeks and nose.

Richie took another long drag on his joint to accommodate for the nerves.

“I mean… okay…” Eddie said before walking out of the Loser Library and into their kitchen, Richie listened as he dug through one of the cabinets and Richie knew immediately what he was getting.

Eddie came into the room moments later with his light blue inhaler in hand. He sat next to Richie and Eddie set his inhaler down next to Richie’s mess of weed and rolling papers, Richie snorted at the irony of an inhaler being in such close proximity to something like that.

“What!?” Eddie asked, offended.

“Nothing, just… are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said, turning towards Richie entirely now, crossing his legs on the couch, that Richie was trying desperately not to think of as a love seat right now.

“Alright Spaghetti…” Richie said, shifting his own body now to mirror Eddie’s.

Eddie just rolled his eyes and shook his head, Richie caught the slight twinge of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, which only caused him to admire it’s features more. Plump and red, glistening with its application of Cherry Chapstick, Richie then realized he was fucked.

Richie felt Eddie’s eyes on him as he took a drag on the joint, he held it in as he leaned towards Eddie, whose mouth parted and waited for Richie to exhale the hit into his mouth. Richie had his eyes on Eddie’s lips the whole time, which was cause for him to drift a bit as he exhaled, he watched as the smoke disappeared into Eddie’s mouth, some of it escaping past the side of his face, Richie was sure not to blow or anything, simply parting his own mouth and allowing the smoke to drift out in a soft exhale to give Eddie time to get as much of it as he could.

Eddie pulled away when he had taken a full breath and exhaled, the smoke catching in his throat a bit as he did so, causing him to fall into a coughing fit. He sat coughing into his elbow and Richie stuck the joint in his mouth and reached for his inhaler, gripping the back of the couch as he did so, so he wouldn’t plummet to the ground for how far he had to reach.

He shook it before handing it to Eddie, who took it from him with a fast nod as a thank you before he triggered it down his throat a few times.

“You okay?” Richie asked, the joint still in his mouth and his hand held dumbly between them.

Eddie nodded and forced his inhaler back into Richie’s hand, as if to say he didn’t need it. “Hit me again.”

“Damn, whatever you say Kaspbrak.” Richie pulled a drag from the joint as he set Eddie’s inhaler back on the table, a little closer in his reach this time.

He plucked the joint from his mouth and leaned in towards Eddie again, who positioned his hand on Richie’s jaw, holding him steady. Richie tried to ignore how tingly he felt at the interaction, Eddie’s fingers almost _searing_ into his skin for how charged the contact was.

Eddie leaned away when he had taken a full breath, but his hand didn’t fall from Richie’s face. Eddie exhaled as the pads of his fingers turned into tips, then dragged down the bone of his jaw to the tip of his chin, then fell with his hand to Eddie’s lap.

“You haven’t shaved in a while.” Eddie said, in a tone that was a _stark_ contrast to the frustration it carried maybe ten minutes ago.

Richie didn’t say anything, he felt like he _couldn’t_ say anything in that moment because the second he opened his mouth _to_ say anything he knew that whatever he intended to say would be replaced with the three words he’s wanted to say to Eddie Kaspbrak since he realized that the feelings he felt for him were different than the feelings he had for the rest of his friends. He sat there with a dumbly gaped expression, eyes hooded, and mouth still parted from when it administered a hit for Eddie.

“That was hot.” Bev said, breaking the weird stand off between Eddie and Richie.

“Shut up Bevvie…” Richie said, blinking himself back into consciousness and positioning the joint back between his lips, to give them something to do to resist the urge to kiss the man in front of him.

Eddie didn’t say anything though, he just sat staring at Richie. Not at his face but at his hand, following as it positioned the joint in his mouth fell to his lap. Richie caught on to his gaze and moved his hand to rest on his knee, just to be sure. And sure enough, Eddie’s eyes followed along with its movement.

Richie took a drag on the joint and exhaled it into a fierce stream out of the side of his mouth, being sure to keep it from blowing right into Eddie’s face, of which shot him a look.

“What, you want another hit?” Richie asked, confused about the look.

“Fuck yeah I do.” Richie could tell Eddie was getting goofy now, a comical twist to his voice and a glint in his eye.

Richie smiled at him and chuckled, happy that Eddie was feeling better. Eddie laughed at him in response.

Richie took yet another drag on the joint, of which was about halfway gone now. He plucked it from his mouth and leaned closer to Eddie again, whose hand went straight back to his face, Richie tried not to pay attention to the way that Eddie’s fingers brushed back and forth against the stubble on his jaw. When Eddie pulled away, his fingers went through the same routine again, Richie’s eyes caught the gaze of Eddie’s and he saw how hooded and glossy they were. His forehead held none of the creases it did before.

“You feeling okay Eds?” Richie asked.

Eddie nodded slowly, smiling a bit at him.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah…” Eddie said, his voice was deeper now.

Richie snorted and fell into a laugh over how much of a lightweight Eddie was, three hits in and he was already high. Eddie laughed along with him, head bowing and shoulders shaking. Richie didn’t notice at first how Eddie’s fingers drifted to the holes of Richie’s jeans on his calves. They traced little shapes into his skin.

When Richie finished laughing he took another drag on the joint, Eddie was gazing down at his hands, fingers of which still tracing around Richie’s skin through the holes of his jeans. Richie held his breath and tapped Eddie’s forehead to get his attention.

Their gazes met and Eddie leaned in, ready for another hit and Richie was the one to hold his face steady now. Cupping his cheek with his hand that wasn’t holding the joint. Eddie’s face was _soft,_ surprisingly soft for a guy, like ‘just shaved five minutes ago’ level of soft. He felt like a peach beneath his fingertips, Richie tried to focus on the sensation without moving his fingers too much. He couldn’t help but imagine and _wonder_ if Eddie was that soft other places too.

Eddie didn’t pull away this time, simply closing his mouth and waiting for a second before blowing the smoke out of his nose.

If Richie hadn’t known better he would think Eddie was waiting for a kiss. His mouth held parted only slightly at the lips, eyes hooded and glistening, cheeks flushed. Richie wished he could tell him how pretty he looked then, so sweet and flushed. But he knew that it would be weird for how confusing Eddie was being, like Eddie would _actually_ take him seriously. Their complicated tango of jokes were usually Richie complimenting something about Eddie that he actually loved and Eddie overreacting negatively to the comment, Richie wasn’t so sure that Eddie would assume his usual reaction.

However, Richie didn’t move, hand still positioned on Eddie’s face as he brought the joint to his own lips again, taking a drag and blowing it into Eddie’s waiting mouth. Richie could no longer ignore the swirling warmth in the pit of his stomach and thanked the Lord that he was wearing jeans, for if he was wearing anything looser or more revealing he would be in quite the predicament.

The whole thing was just so overwhelmingly arousing, Eddie looking the way he did and _touching_ Richie the way he was. Leaning in so close yet being so fucking far. Distance put there by the fact that Eddie had a practical _boyfriend_ at this point, and that Eddie did not at all like Richie in that way. But damnit this was fucking _hot_ and Richie was fucking _struggling._

Richie fought the urge to connect their lips each time, them being so fucking close that their heads were tipped to dodge each other’s noses. Eddie’s eyes even _closed_ each time he inhaled the smoke from Richie’s mouth. One more inch and they would be connected. Richie would taste the Cherry Chapstick on Eddie’s lips and probably blow a fucking load in his pants over it.

By the time they were done with the joint Eddie’s head was fully leant into Richie’s grasp, the hair behind his ear tickling the tips of his fingers. Eddie’s own fingers still tracing into the holes of Richie’s jeans, thankfully still only on his calves. There was no other reason for them to be held in this position still, having no more weed to smoke, so Richie _painfully_ pulled away. Heart aching that he didn’t instead, lean in, to connect their lips, and besides, even if he knew Eddie felt the same he wouldn’t have kissed him.

Richie would never take advantage of someone when they weren’t sober, and Eddie was _far fucking from it_ now. Expression entirely creaseless and calm. Eyes glazed and red, mouth held in a slight smirk. Richie would never kiss anyone for the first time when they were high, _especially_ Eddie, no matter how hard his heart yearned for it.

“Woah…” Eddie said, his eyes glued to Richie’s own gaze.

“What?” Richie asked, laughing at how stoned Eddie really was.

He didn’t say anything in response, just stared at Richie _harder_ , eyebrows creasing and mouth parting again.

“Can I just say, I have a fucking boner right now?” Bev said raising one hand as the other rested over her heart, having apparently sat and watched the whole thing as her and Ben passed their own joint between them.

Eddie crumbled into a fit of laughter over that, howling and leaning to rest his forehead on Richie’s shoulder as he laughed. Richie laughed too and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s back to hold him steady.

“Holy shit, Eddie is fucking _toasted_.” Richie said through his laughter.

“Fucking same…” Mike said from behind him on the other couch next to Bill.

That only caused Eddie to laugh more, hand gripping at the fabric of Richie’s shirt as the giggles and shrieks racked through his body.

Richie held his arm around him securely as he leaned to grab himself another joint and his lighter off of the table, he felt a need to catch up to Eddie. He stuck the joint between his lips and lit it as Eddie fell from his fit of laughter into a cough attack.

Richie dropped his lighter onto the table and picked up Eddie’s inhaler, shaking it before handing it to him. Eddie triggered it down his throat a few times. As Eddie caught his breath Richie focused on smoking his new joint, being careful to blow the smoke to the side.

Eddie didn’t move from his spot hugged into Richie, in fact he scooted closer and held his hand lighter against Richie’s chest, fingers sprawled as if he was feeling his heartbeat. Richie’s own arm was still wrapped securely around Eddie’s back and quite honestly, Richie had half a mind to realize that he lit the second joint not just to get super high, but to give his hand something to do. To keep it from brushing though Eddie’s hair, or stroking his back, or even resting on his thigh.

“Hey…Richie?” Eddie asked, quiet and nervous.

Richie hummed in response, through his exhale of a hit.

“Why did you stop singing?” Eddie asked just as soft.

Richie’s entire face went red. It had only really been Eddie who heard him sing since they’ve moved into the house. _Seriously_ sing, not the goofy falsetto he resorted to whenever a song came on the radio in the kitchen or car. He only sang, _for real,_ in his room when he played his guitar. Eddie could only have heard him through their shared wall.

Bev shot Bill and Mike a look as her and Ben left the room, Ben leaned in to whisper something to Mike and he and Bill left with them. Leaving just Richie and Eddie, and Richie was verging on a little mad about it, because before he could have just laughed it off and Eddie would understand. But now, there was no one to laugh with him, and he should have done that thirty seconds ago when Eddie first popped the question, now it wouldn’t be a genuine enough response to be believable.

“I… don’t know Eddie.” Richie said, face still beet red as he leant to snub out the half smoked joint.

“I always liked hearing you sing…” Eddie said in almost a whisper, muffled by Richie’s shirt.

Richie felt his throat tighten and his eyebrows knot, oh how he _loved Eddie…_

“Hey…I’ll be right back.” Eddie said, standing and heading upstairs, relying heavily on the railing.

Richie straightened up his mess on the coffee table with the spare moment, to give himself something else to focus on, stuffing the left over weed and half smoked joint into his tin that once housed mints. Stacking the papers back into their neat stack in their packaging and officially separating Eddie’s inhaler from the mess. As he cleaned, Richie heard a door open upstairs and assumed it was Eddie’s until he heard the sound of his guitar being unplugged from his amp. Richie knew he was fucked then, there was no way he was getting out of it.

A moment in official approach that he knew would be so intimate, so personal, so _loving._ Richie bent over his guitar singing along to a song honest and softly while Eddie was the only one in the room to hear.

Eddie came trotting down the stairs then, Richie’s guitar strung securely over his neck as he held it tight to his body.

“Here…” Eddie said, slipping the strap of the guitar off of his head and over Richie’s, who slotted his arm through as well, to hold it correctly. “Play me something.”

Richie chuckled a bit, and tried not to focus on how hot his face felt.

“I’m _serious_ Richie… please.” Eddie settled back into his spot on the couch and leaned into the back of it, leaning his cheek on the headrest and staring at Richie with those beautiful brown eyes that Richie daydreamed about.

“Jeez okay…” Richie said chuckling a bit more and adjusting in his seat to more comfortably play as he thought about what song he wanted to do.

Definitely something slow… something fun to play, but not too exciting. Something with vocals he could reach and sing comfortably along to the piece. Then it came to him, The Beatles were the perfect solution, _While My Guitar Gently Weeps_ was his final decision and his fingers ran on auto piolet as he played the song he’s rehearsed a thousand times.

He slowed the tempo of the song greatly as to match the tone of the room.

 _“I look at you all, see the love there that’s sleeping… while my guitar… gently weeps…”_ Richie sang, feeling a bit goofy about it at first, but he sang anyway, because Eddie told him to, and he would do just about anything for him.

 _“I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping… still my guitar gently weeps.”_ Richie licked his lips after the first chorus along to the little guitar solo he put in there.

Eddie smiled a sweet closed mouth infectious smile at him and settled further into the couch.

 _“I don’t know why… nobody told you… how to unfold your love….”_ Richie made sure not to make eye contact with Eddie, and instead watched as his fingers plucked the strings of the guitar. _“I don’t know how… someone controlled you… they bought and sold you…”_

As Richie sang through the second chorus, he stole a few glances at Eddie, who was still gazing at him with his adorable smile and glossy brown eyes. Richie couldn’t help but smile back as he sang, leaning back and forth along to the song.

When the guitar solo came he had to focus on that instead however, eyes darting back and forth from his right hand plucking the strings and his left, fingering between the frets of the guitar, holding the correct notes and chords for the solo.

 _“I don’t know how you were diverted… you were perverted too…”_ Richie raised his eyebrows and gave Eddie a look on the word ‘perverted’ which resulted in a snort and nudge on his knee. Richie somehow felt weird about blowing his cover, Eddie know knew full well that Richie was singing the song about him, he was singing the song _for him_ because the song made him think of him. Of their situation, a love so dormant and unspoken of, because Richie didn’t know how.

_“I don’t know how you were inverted… no one alerted you…”_

Eddie sat with his gaze, still staring blissfully at Richie.

_“I look at you all, see the love there that’s sleeping… while my guitar gently weeps…”_

Richie hummed the rest of the lyrics as to focus on his guitar playing, adding in his own personal flair with the canonical rhythms of the original song. He ended the piece where he felt it was right and let the note carry through his guitar, though it didn’t echo much on his electric guitar that was currently unplugged to any form of amplification.

“That was great Richie…” Eddie said, so sweet and genuine.

“Thanks, Eds…” Richie said, expecting a retort that scolded him for the use of the nickname, hoping to break the romantic tension that he felt in the room.

However, Eddie didn’t say anything about it, just smiled _more…_ his teeth shining through his now parted lips, as his eyes squinted with his appled cheeks.

Richie smiled back, because Eddie’s smiles were so damn infectious.

Eddie stood then, stretching a bit and picking up his inhaler, then he took a step, as if to head to the stairs, past Richie between the coffee table and the couch, then he stopped, just next to him and put his hand on Richie’s head. Richie knew Eddie couldn’t see his face, so he closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch, feeling everything that the simple interaction had to offer.

A beat of time passed, and Richie then felt Eddies _lips_ press into his scalp. He couldn’t control the gasp that his body performed on reflex, muscles tensing and jaw falling slightly, brows furrowing at the action. His lips _lingered_ … for a few _seconds…_ and Richie felt like he could cry.

When Eddie’s lips finally did pull away, he spoke. “I’m going to go to bed… goodnight Richie…” He spoke softly.

“Soo you tomorrow Eds.” Richie said over his shoulder as Eddie walked up the stairs.

His eyes welled up with tears, overwhelmed by the platonic intentions of it all. How _desperately_ did Richie crave the idea of them being something more. The frustrating wedge that was Connor had been planted firmly between them now. As a result, Richie had been pushed further away from the love he so _desperately_ yearned for.

He sat staring at the spot on the couch where Eddie had been moments before, tears trailing down his cheeks silently.

“He is in love with you, I think you should know that…” Stans voice scared the absolute _shit_ out of him, breaking the thick silence.

Richie looked up to see him still seated in the dining room, having been there the entire time, silently focused on his work.

“If he was in love with me why does he have a boyfriend? Riddle me that Stanley.”

Stan sighed and shook his head. “I need you to figure that one out bud.” He stood and neatly organized his books and papers in such a way so he could return to them in the morning.

“He doesn’t love me.” Richie said, as Stan walked through the living room and to the stairs, assumedly to go to bed as well.

“Keep lying to yourself Rich…” Stan chuckled a bit as he walked up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Under-aged/Illegal use of marijuana.


	4. Bitchy Richie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise visit from Connor, on quite possibly the most stressful weekend of the whole semester. Richie isn't having any of his shit, and can't seem to keep his mouth closed about it.

It was officially the weekend before their thanksgiving holiday break, and they were all looking forward to it. Partially because their classes were getting _extra_ stressful, as they were in the thick of the semester now, but also because they vowed to spend the holiday season with each other this year.

Richie had been the one to come up with the idea when they were in the process of moving in. He was deep in thought and consideration of Bev’s feelings at the time, feelings about the passing of her aunt. Richie thought that it would be good for her to spend the holidays with her family and not have them all spread out to not see each other for over a month.

Everyone was completely on board with the idea, and all of their families understood, except for Eddie’s mother of course. Leave it to Sonia to get her panties in a twist over something so easily understandable for anyone with normal emotions. In the end however, Eddie insisted that he was staying with a promise to visit her for her birthday, of which was in February of their next semester.

The week before thanksgiving break of course, came with ample amounts of work, Richie had three papers to write and a massive chemistry exam coming up, taking place the Tuesday before their official break period. He cursed whoever was responsible for the scheduling of exams, having put one so _fucking close_ to break was just evil.

So, here he was, seated in the Loser Library on a Friday night writing out a paper as fast as he could, words spewing onto the page until he got to the page limit, writing about some biological bullshit for his class. He planned to get the paper done so he could finish his other two as well and have at least _some_ time to start studying for his exam that was four days away.

It was Richie, Stan and Mike in the library, Richie had no idea what Stan was working on, but Mike was also writing a paper for his English class. Richie wished he was writing for an English class rather than fucking Biology. They are always so much easier to bull shit, you spew some stuff about the hidden meaning behind the color of some persons shirt and you’ve got three paragraphs done, easy-peasy. Biology papers however… a whole different beast, a beast that Richie hated extensively. He was really _struggling_ to come up with information to write about, the original topic of the paper kept drifting from his brain, which was never a good sign.

He sat there tapping his pencil to his lips, _deep_ in thought, trying to come up with _something_ to write down. His hair was a greasy fucking disaster despite showering just last night, having gotten that way because of how many times he’s raked his hands through it throughout the day. A tick he had, induced by stress and nerves, of which he had _plenty._

“Hey, Connor is coming over, he might spend the night too.”

Richie listened to the conversation that Eddie had started with Bev in the living room. From where he sat at the table, he could easily see just about the whole living room, so he couldn’t help but dart his gaze up towards it now.

“Damn he must really like you huh?” Bev said, there was a weird tone in her voice, as if that was the only thing she could think of to say.

“I mean I guess… I just know you guys haven’t all really _met_ him so…” Eddie sat on one of the armchairs.

“Well, we should order pizza or something right?” Bill said.

“You’re just saying that because _you_ want pizza.” Mike called from the library, having also been listening in on their conversation.

Richie and Stan chuckled a bit with him.

“You mean to tell me _you don’t_ want pizza Mike?” Bill said back.

“No, I want pizza.”

“Then it’s settled, lets get some fucking pizza!” Bill said, laughing a bit.

They all pitched in whatever cash they had in their wallets a jumble of fives, ones, and a ten. Bill took the liberty of collecting the money and going into the kitchen to order the food. Richie left the library through the sliding glass door leading to the porch, needing a break from the atmosphere and the strain on his brain from trying to focus when there was so much going on.

The last thing he fucking wanted was for Connor to come over, sitting on _his_ couch, in _his_ house, touching all over Eddie. Richie lit up a cigarette and stood next to the railing of the porch, staring off into the thinning sliver of woods in their back yard that separated their yard from the houses behind. He heard some music bumping in the distance and wished he could be wherever it was instead of here.

He half expected Bev to follow him out here, but he was happy she didn’t. She probably caught onto the fact that he wanted to be alone for a minute, because she was the best and understood him better than his own parents.

He worked his way through the cigarette and debated lighting another one before opting to just go back inside, the chilling weather having a factor in his decision making. He returned to his seat at the table and read over the prompt for the paper again. He had an easier time bullet pointing things he wanted to mention in the paper, deciding to do that rather than just diving into writing, because that obviously was _not_ working.

He caught Stan noticing his change of plan, nodding in approval.

“Shut up Stan.” Richie sighed into a chuckle.

Stan laughed in response and continued his own work, always so organized and neat.

They worked for about a half an hour, and Richie had made little to no progress by the time the pizzas arrived. The sound of the nock at the door made his heart sink at first, but was relieved to see that it was only the pizza guy.

Bill set two of the three pizza boxes down on the living room coffee table, and brought the third into the library for Richie, Stan and Mike.

“Here, you guys should take a break and eat…” He said, setting the box down on top of Richie’s biology textbook.

“Thanks mom.” Richie said as he reached for the box.

Bill laughed and returned to the living room, joining the others in digging into the pizza.

“So what time is he coming?” Ben asked, confused as to why Connor hadn’t shown up yet.

Frankly Richie was confused too… usually Eddie was punctual and insistent on things like arrival times, it was surprising to see that Connor wasn’t respecting that.

“Well, he said he would be here at five thirty… so I don’t know honestly.” Eddie said, obviously trying to mask the disappointment and possible _embarrassment_ in his voice. Richie hated Connor for putting him in that position.

He _cringed_ for him, understanding how much of an affect the fact that it was now almost _six twenty_ had on Eddie. He’s spent the last two months raving about how awesome this guy was, for him to be late coming to their house. This only lead Richie to wonder… wonder about whether or not they were together… and if they’ve had sex yet. He knows how much shit like that could change things in a relationship. Especially when they were only _together for_ the sex… Richie didn’t want to ask. He felt he _couldn’t ask_ knowing how hurt Eddie already was by the fact that he was late.

“So, are you guys official yet?” Bev asked, as casually as she could. Glancing to Richie as she asked, flashing him a wink when Eddie wasn’t looking.

What a fucking _mind_ reader she was.

“Yeah, he asked me to be his boyfriend last week.” Eddie said, a little happier now.

Richie felt his heart drop, a combination of the fact that his assumptions were quite possibly _true,_ as well as the fact that Eddie was officially with this asshole. He masked his hurt with the appearance of extreme focus on his work. His mind could only focus on Eddie however, the way that this guy was probably taking advantage of him, treating him to all of these awesome dates that Eddie raved about, only for sex in return.

Richie ate as he worked, doing everything he could to try and distract his mind from the fact that Eddie’s prick of a boyfriend was coming over any minute now. He didn’t want to escape to his room to work there or anything, because a good part of him really wanted to meet this guy. See what kind of guy Eddie was really into. This was his first _boyfriend_ after all…

There was a knock on the door then, and Eddie got up to answer. Richie did all but stick his finger’s in his ears to avoid the sounds of Eddie’s adorably sweet greeting and the smack of their lips against one another’s. He cleared his throat and ruffled his papers; Stan gave him a look as if to say, ‘ _can you make it any more obvious?’_

Richie shot Stan a look back and took a furious bite of his pizza, he really was letting jealousy get the best of him. He was fully aware of how annoying he was in that moment for Stan and Mike and tried to cool it a bit as Eddie took Connor around the living room, giving him a formal introduction to each of his friends.

Richie saw the way Eddie slotted against his side; arms wrapped around each other as they went around the room. He knew they were headed into the library next, so he tried his best to look as busy as possible, dropping the piece of pizza he was holding and acting as if he was hard at work writing out a sentence, of which was gibberish and simply a bunch of complicated Biology terms strung together.

“And in here we have Stan, Mike, and Richie…” Eddie pointed to each of them as he said their names.

“Mike…” Connor reached for a handshake from him across the table, which Mike accepted with a smile, even standing to deliver the best greeting possible.

“Yep that’s me you got it man.” They both laughed a bit.

“Stan…” Same routine, minus the smile.

“And Richie…” Connor reached to shake Richie’s hand. Richie felt no urge to stand, so he didn’t, just planting his hand in his and giving it a firm shake.

“The token Trashmouth.” Richie said, a little deadpan.

“He’s talking about himself not you.” Eddie said, clearing the confusion.

Connor laughed then. To fuck with him, Richie shook his hand until Connor let go, a power move in his book. It resulted in an awkwardly long handshake between the two, Connor finally letting go and Richie then doing the same.

“Obviously this is Connor…” Eddie said, noticing how awkward Richie was being and shot him a look, Richie acted like he didn’t see it.

“Nice to meet you finally.” Mike said.

Stan agreed with a smile and Richie just picked up his discarded piece of pizza from the table, giving that his attention instead of Connor.

He knew he was being a bitch, but he didn’t care, he knew what this guy was doing to Eddie and he didn’t like it, if Eddie was instead Stan, Mike, or Bill in the situation, he would treat them the same. He wanted the best for his friends and if someone wasn’t giving that to them, he wanted nothing to do with them. Taking advantage of someone like that, not showing them respect, treating them to all of these fun dates so he could get in his pants… Richie let his mind tally up a list.

“Damn I’m hungry…” Connor said, directed towards Eddie, as if he was expecting him to get it for him.

“Well get some pizza.” Richie said.

Connor reached for the box in the middle of the table, the one that Richie, Stan and Mike had been splitting.

“Not this one though, you see, this is lactose free pizza, ‘cus we’ve all got that thing where we’d shit our brains out if we look at milk. Also, Stan likes anchovies. Trust me you don’t want this one.” Richie said dead pan as fuck.

Connor laughed, out of nervousness, and Eddie glared at Richie, he felt a little bad then.

“No, I fucking don’t!” Stan said, defending himself.

“Come on… there’s pizza in here. Richie is too much of a greedy asshole to share I guess.” Eddie said, leading Connor out of the room.

Richie smirked to himself and finished the pizza he was holding. Stan and Mike gave him looks of disappointment, and he shrugged in response, returning to his work. As he ‘worked’ he was painfully aware of the conversation in the next room.

Ben made conversation, asking Connor what it was like being on the football team.

“Oh, it’s great, traveling is really the best part, partying across the state is always a good time. Sometimes there’s even some male cheerleaders I can fuck around with...” Connor laughed as if people were laughing with him, they weren’t. “But, now that I’m tied down I don’t have to do that anymore…. No, really, it’s great, there’s something rewarding about working hard to get better and having your work paid off come game time.”

Richie glanced into the room, mostly looking to see how Eddie had reacted to that fucking repulsive remark. He looked hurt… sad, and a little red faced. Richie knew that if _he_ were to have made a fucked up joke like that, Eddie would have been at his throat, but with Connor… he strangely… wasn’t.

“Yeah I know what you mean, I did track in high school, beating your personal best was the best feeling ever.” Ben replied, extremely awkward.

Richie thought of about twenty things he wanted to say to Connor, but he kept his mouth shut. Trying to behave himself for Eddie’s sake, he decided to give him three strikes. That fucked comment had been strike one.

“Hey Eddie, do you guys have napkins?” His tone was a little bitchy, as if expecting they wouldn’t have them or expecting that Eddie would get him some.

“It’s _where_ are the napkins…” Richie retorted, deadpan as ever, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for strike two. He almost felt the urge to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent himself from saying something else, the urge of stringing an insult to the end of his statement had been too strong.

“I’ll get some.” Eddie said, standing up and walking towards the library to get to the kitchen.

He shot Richie a furious glare when he walked past. Richie’s expression was unfazed, he didn’t react to the scowl at all, just kept his face flat, full eye contact with Eddie, who retrieved a stack of napkins from the kitchen and handed some to Connor, placing the rest on the table next to their boxes of pizza.

“Thanks Babe.” Connor said.

Richie almost threw up at that. Stomach flexing as if he took a physical blow from the pet name.

Eddie settled back into his seat and they all conversed a bit. Richie was able to surprisingly drown it out, directing as much brain power as he could to reading a page in his Biology book, though he wasn’t retaining the words at all, it gave him something to do that wasn’t listening to Eddie’s boyfriend have nothing in common with their friend group.

They conversed for maybe twenty minutes until they all somehow ended up on the topic of their class schedules and time constrictions with football.

Richie picked up on the fact that Connor was repeatedly interrupting Eddie as they spoke, and it was getting on his fucking _nerves._ Mostly because this guy had the audacity to fucking _do that,_ but also because Eddie wasn’t talking over him like he usually would. He wasn’t being himself; he was being a toned-down almost _submissive_ version of himself and Richie was _enraged._

“Yeah he has practice ev—"

“Practices take just about the whole morning!” Connor interrupted Eddie _once again_ and in Richie’s book that was the last fucking straw.

He got up and stood in the archway between the two rooms. “Please don’t interrupt Eddie.”

His voice was deep and almost threatening, loud, but at the same time quit, demanding the room with his short instruction.

“I’m no—”

“ _Yes_ , you are.” Richie interrupted him, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Connor’s face was complete shocked rage, his chiseled features were tainted with the expression, suddenly he was the ugliest person to walk this earth. His face alone looked like he was ready to beat the absolute shit out of Richie. And frankly, Richie was about to let him, eager to try to at least get _one_ good punch in before Connor kicked his teeth in. All those years of Henry doing just that made him immune to the idea. He could fucking take it; he’ll take a punch for any of his friends. Eddie especially.

Bev’s face was complete shock, her eyes were wide, and her mouth was gaped open, staring at Richie like he just said he was going to kill someone.

“Richie, don’t fucking do this.” Eddie said.

Richie’s attention went to him, he looked scared and worried, Richie’s face was a confliction, stuck between anger and consideration. He felt his heart pound in his neck, from the pent-up adrenaline and rage. Eddie gave his head a shake, pleading for Richie to stop.

Bev then shook herself out of her state of shock and jumped up off of the couch and towards Richie.

“Come on, lets go outside…” She said quietly, looping her arm through his and walking him towards the door. He let her, convinced by Eddie’s silent pleas and the comfort of Bev’s arm through his own.

“Where did you find that fucking asshole?” Connor said, directed towards Bill, Ben, and Eddie.

“Don’t call him that…” Eddie said. And that was the last thing Richie heard before Bev closed the sliding glass door behind them.

“I can’t do this Bev… that guy is a fucking _asshole_ … I hate him...” Richie felt himself getting more and more worked up, cursing his throat for closing in, preparing for a wave of frustrated tears.

Bev left him where he stood and walked to the table, grabbing the pack of Marlboro’s and a lighter, plucking one from the pack and lighting it in her mouth before handing it to Richie.

Richie took the cigarette and took a long drag, hoping that it would make his throat snap out of it’s urge to tighten around the wave of emotion.

“Eddie doesn’t deserve a guy like that…” He felt his eyes well with tears. “He’s bossing him around and fucking _talking over him_ …”

“I know… I know…” Bev said lighting her own cigarette.

“What if he’s like some abusive asshole… what if he hurts him…” The tears streamed down his face now.

It was a bit of a stretch, jumping to such a conclusion like that, but for Richie’s current state of mind it seemed reasonable.

“He won’t, trust me Richie…” Bev said wiping away his tears with the sleeve of her hoodie tugged over her hand. “He’s just a grade A fucking asshole, that’s it.”

Richie felt an embarrassing sob wrack through his body then, he hated that he cried in situations like this. Crying only frustrated him more, he swiped at his own tears with his hand, his glasses went askew in the whole ordeal. Bev plucked them off of his face and hung them from the collar of her hoodie.

He heard the sliding glass door open again and Bev leaned to look behind him to see who it was.

“Hi Stan.” She said.

“Here Richie…” Stan held a glass of water out towards him.

Richie embarrassingly cried more and took the glass from Stan. He was always the one to do shit like that, knowing just what would help any of his friends in a melt-down or stressful situation, whether it was a glass of water, or a hug, Stan was always there to help.

“Thanks Stan…” Richie said.

He nodded.

Richie sipped the water, enjoying the way that the cool water helped to take some of the heat off of his face and body. When he drank a good amount of the water he returned to his cigarette.

“For the record, I don’t like him either.” Stan said.

Richie laughed then, a wet, mid-sob kind of laugh. “Well I would be concerned if you _did_ like him. Then _everyone’s_ morals would be fucked.”

“I just had to clear that up!” Stan said defending himself.

“I mean the first thing he said besides his introduction was about how he would fuck cheerleaders! I think we’re all on the same page about this one.” Bev said.

Richie was comforted by their words, knowing that he really wasn’t alone on the whole _hating Connor_ train.

“You treat him better than that Richie…” Stan said then.

Richie shook his head and more tears fell down his face. “No, he doesn’t like me like that.” He fit the cigarette back into his mouth.

“We both saw how he acted with you that night…” Stan said, a bit more serious now.

Bev shot Stan a look, surprised and eager to hear the details. Stan looked back at her as if to insinuate he’d tell her another time.

“He was high as fuck!” Richie defended.

“You don’t get _that high_ from shot-gunning…” Bev said in consideration.

“Just drop it guys, he doesn’t like me like that… you know how he is… he gets all soft and cuddly when he’s under the influence.” Richie said, laughing beneath his cries.

“Yeah, I think requesting a personal song and kissing your fucking head counts as more than cuddling.” Stan said back, crossing his arms now. Bev’s jaw dropped and she looked back and forth between Richie and Stan.

Richie turned to walk towards the railing of the porch, trying to hide the fact he cried more then. Remembering how the interaction felt, his soft hand and lips so gentle but firm against his scalp. The pads of his fingers rubbing small circles as his lips lingered, far too long to be platonic.

His lips trembled as he pulled a drag from his cigarette. The lights of the houses between the woods were blurred in the dark, from his lack of glasses. It gave him something to focus on as he tried to calm himself. He drank the rest of the water and set the glass down on the railing. He then pressed his hands into the railing, leaning on it and shaking his head at the ground.

“You guys don’t get it. He likes fucking hot ass, buff jock dudes… not whatever the fuck _I_ am…” Richie laughed at that.

No one laughed with him though, the only response he got was Bev’s hand at his back.

“Richie I love you, but that is the shallowest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Agreed.” Stan said.

“Listen Richie, it’s not all about looks, frankly _I_ think you’re better looking than that guy, but it’s obviously not all about that, you know that more than anyone.”

Richie laughed. “How am I hotter than that guy!” He almost howled with laughter.

“Well you have like the best hair in the whole house, your bone structure is like perfect with your high ass cheek bones and your chiseled jaw line and shit. Your eyes are super pretty too.” Bev giggled.

“And you’re tall.” Stan added.

“Yes, and you’re tall! And you’re like, _toned_ too. I don’t know how, but you are.”

“Jeez thanks guys…” Richie laughed.

“No prob Bob.” Bev said, punching his shoulder a bit.

“Richie don’t worry about that guy. This is all temporary obviously.” Stan said. “I don’t think he’s going to hurt Eddie.”

“I don’t think he will either. He’s just bossy and an asshole.” Bev added.

“Yeah…” Richie agreed.

He took a few deep breaths, some of which were drags of his cigarette, and the rest were an inhalation of the cool November air.

“I really thought I was going to punch him.” Richie said then.

“I thought you were too.” Bev agreed.

“I’m happy you didn’t.” Stan sounded relieved.

“Maybe someday…” Richie said sighing.

They both knew he wasn’t serious, so they laughed as Richie took his last drag off of the cigarette butt and flicked it into the darkness. However, only a part of him was serious. Richie _knew_ that if he was drunk or high, or if Eddie wasn’t giving him _that look_ he would have been right there in front of him, with his balled fist flying towards his perfect face.

Sure, Connor would have ultimately _won_ the hypothetical fight, but Richie would have at least had that punch… and he could have lived with that.

Stan took Richie’s cup off of the railing and went inside. When Bev finished her cigarette, they went back in as well. The living room had been vacated, apparently everyone scattered to turn in for the night except for Mike who was still in the Library.

“Is everything okay?” Mike asked sounding a bit concerned. “I was going to come out, but I didn’t want it to be too much…”

“Yeah I’m fine.” Richie said, matching Mikes quieter tone.

“They’re not going to be an item for long you know… that guy is an asshole.”

“Yeah I know Mikey, I know.” Richie clapped the back of his shoulder.

“He’ll be all yours in no time.” Mike smirked at him.

“Fuck, you too?” Richie asked, wondering now if Bill was also in on the whole ‘Richie being in love with Eddie’ secret.

“Yeah… and Bill…”

Well that clears things up.

“You guys need a hobby.” Richie said, laughing.

“Hey, I have plenty of hobbies.” Bev giggled.

“Yeah and apparently one of them is admiring my perfect bone structure.” Richie smiled, and held his hands up, framing his face.

“Shut up or I’ll do your fucking makeup.”

“That’s the worst threat in the world, because I _want_ you to do my makeup.”

“Oh, it’s _on_ Tozier…” Bev scrunched her face and pointed at him, as if insinuating a threat.

“Gonna braid my hair too huh? Really show me who’s boss?” Richie said.

“Fuck yeah I am!”

Mike laughed.

“Watch out Mikey, she’ll get you too!” Richie rounded on him.

They all laughed then, Bev plucked Richie’s glasses from their spot at the neckline of her hoodie and handed them to him before grabbing the empty pizza box from the table and pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks before announcing she was off to bed. Soon, Richie and Mike were doing the same. Stan and Eddie’s doors were closed when he got upstairs, he heard muffled voices coming from Eddie’s room, he stopped at the junction of doors in the hallway, it didn’t sound like anything sexual or angry, just… talking. Richie went into the bathroom then, and went through the motions of brushing his teeth and taking a shower.

Returning to his room, he pulled on his pajamas, opting for pants and a shirt because frankly he was _freezing_ from spending so much time outside and taking a shower. He crawled into bed and plucked his glasses from his face, setting them on the nightstand. Just as he settled into bed and everything was quiet, it suddenly wasn’t, the sounds of a light rhythmic banging came from the wall to his right. Just next to his bed.

Richie’s entire face went hot at the sounds he heard next, grunts and moans, some of which sounded as if they could be Eddie’s, but most of which were definitely Connor. Right next door, Eddie was getting fucked by this fucking absolute tool of a guy and Richie didn’t want to sit there to hear it any longer. Richie’s face fumed and he immediately sprung out of bed.

There was absolutely _no fucking way_ he could spend another minute there, hearing _those fucking sounds._ He evacuated his room, having half a mind to grab his glasses on his way out. He wasn’t sure of where he wanted to go, he trotted down the stairs until the sound was gone all together, stopping at the bottom step he sat down and thunked his head against the wall. A few feet away was the door to Bev and Ben’s room. Bev apparently hadn’t been all the way ready for bed yet, because she popped her head out of the door, squinting into the dark.

“I thought that was you.” She said, in a bit of a whisper, as to not wake Ben. She stood there massaging something into her face.

Richie shot her a look of defeat.

“Oh no…” She said and made a face of disgust. She continued to rub whatever it was into her skin and walked up the stairs past Richie, tiptoeing as she went.

She returned a few seconds later. “Okay come-on your sleeping with us tonight.”

“I could just sleep on the couch…” Richie said.

“What and he’ll find you there tomorrow morning? Uh-uh no way, that’ll send him on a fucking power trip.” She nudged his shoulder as she passed, trotting the rest of the way down the stairs and opening her bedroom door all the way.

“Come on, I’ll let you spoon Ben…” Bev said, smiling.

Richie laughed. “Okay, _now_ I’m sold.” Richie teased.

Bev giggled and lead the way into the room. The only light on had been the one on Bev’s nightstand, Ben was dead-asleep, sprawled out and taking up about two thirds of their queen sized mattress.

Bev pushed the covers down and knelt onto the bed, Richie following her like a lost puppy.

“Hey Ben…” She tapped him a bit to wake him up. “Scooch over, Richie is sleeping in here tonight.”

“Mmm… okay…” Ben said, half asleep. “Did he have a nightmare?” Ben teased.

“Yes.” Richie said, laughing a bit at the realization that what was happening upstairs, was quite literally, a nightmare.

Bev laughed too and slotted beneath the covers behind Ben, who turned to his side facing away from the both of them to make more room. Richie slotted in behind her and set his glasses on the bedside table before flicking off the lights.

“Goodnight everyone!” He said.

“Goodnight Richie.” Bev chuckled.

“G’night son.” Ben said.

“Goodnight Dad!” Richie laughed.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, his eyes and brain tired from his melt down and stressful day. He fell asleep to the thought of his appreciation for his friends. He felt embarrassed and a little sad about how bitchy he had been being about the whole situation, but he was grateful that they all understood what he was feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie thinks he's a bad bitch but he's really just a big ole softy, though we all knew that... 
> 
> He can be a baddie sometimes too though!!! Watch out for that later on in the fic!!!


	5. The First of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers celebrate their first Christmas together as a family. Winter break brought the absence of Connor, and Richie was enjoying every moment with Eddie at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use a lot of cannon from the book in my writing, so the fact that Stan's family isn't very religious comes from there. I just wanted to clear that up in case there was any confusion because in the movie his father is a full on Rabbi.

“Stan how does it feel to not be Jewish anymore?” Richie asked as he sipped his coffee.

“I’m still Jewish dumb ass…” The added aspect of Stan have not had any coffee yet made his voice sound extra annoyed.

“I’m going to call your dad and tell him you’re cheating.”

“We’re barely religious so go right ahead, he’ll probably just be pissed that you’re calling him so early in the morning.”

Richie had been the first one up on Christmas morning, trotting downstairs and making a pot of coffee. He figured he’ll drink about half of it by the time everyone else was awake. Stan was second to wake up, slouching down the stairs complaining about Richie being too loud in the bathroom.

“I want Eddie to get up…” Richie said, thinking out loud.

“I know you do…”

“Shut up.”

Winter break had been great so far, mostly because Connor went home to his family in Ohio, so he has been out of the picture for a good part of it. He’s only called Eddie once since he left, which Richie was kind of pissed about, because Eddie deserved better than that.

Having Connor out of the picture meant that Richie had Eddie pretty much all to himself. They were back to their normal. Which of course had been constantly fucking around with each other, and being so fucking close constantly that one would think that were glued at the hip.

“Can you go get him so I can have some peace and quiet?” Stan pleaded.

“I forgot you’re no fun in the mornings.” Richie teased as he left the room.

He stopped to pour a cup of coffee for Eddie the way he liked it, just a splash of milk and a half a spoonful of sugar. A stark contrast compared to how Richie liked his, three spoons of sugar and a fuck ton of half and half.

He went up the stairs, not really caring to be quiet, because he wanted everyone awake a soon as possible so they could get onto their Christmas day activities.

He didn’t bother knocking on Eddie’s door, he just quietly opened it and entered the room.

“Eddie-Dear, it’s time to wake up! Santa _came_ last night!” Richie stage whispered as if he was a mother waking her son. He couldn’t hold back the urge to crack a joke then. “And rumor has it that Mrs. Claus wasn’t home, I wonder which elf he fucked…or reindeer?”

“Oh my God shut up.” Eddie grumbled and laughed as he turned to his side, hugging his blanket closer to his body.

“No can-do Eddie-bear.” Richie teased, sitting on the bed. “Santa will be hurt if you don’t get to his presents before twelve o’clock.”

“Who’s up even?” Eddie whined.

Richie reached beneath the covers and pulled out his arm, he slapped his limp hand against his own, clapping them together.

“Everyone.” Richie lied.

“What the fuck is this…” Eddie sounded hopelessly confused at whatever the fuck Richie was doing.

“I’m waking you up one limb at a time.”

“It’s not working.” Eddie said and quite literally snuggled into his pillow, acting as if Richie clapping their hands together wasn’t happening at all.

“You better get up before I fucking cuddle you or something.” Richie said.

“Weird threat.” Eddie said and laughed.

Richie then flopped his body on top of him, hugging his arms around him in the most uncomfortable way he could, squeezing Eddie’s warm sleepy body close to his own.

“Richie you’re going to kill me.” Eddie complained, laughing still.

Richie just turned his head and blew a raspberry into his cheek.

“Eww! What the fuck, no!” Eddie yelled still laughing.

“Come on come on come on!” Richie begged, rocking their bodies back and forth. Urging Eddie to get up.

“Fine, alright just get off of me!”

Richie did what he was told and sat up, reaching for Eddie’s coffee on the table, handing it to him.

“Thanks Richie.” Eddie said with a smile.

Richie sat staring for a second as Eddie sat up in bed, supporting himself with one arm and sipping his cup with the other. The shirt he wore to bed was adorably large and lulled to the side, the too-wide collar exposing his clavicle bone, a perfect image in Richie’s eyes. His hair a sloppy mess, eyes droopy with sleep peeking at him over the rim of his coffee mug. Richie snapped a mental photo, if it was a Polaroid he would scribble a rhyme about Sleeping Beauty on the caption and put it somewhere for safe keeping. He figured his head was safe enough.

“Come on… I’ll meet you downstairs.” Richie smiled and squeezed his knee through his blanket as he stood up.

He had every urge to press a kiss to his head or cheek then, opting to instead just ruffle his fingers through his hair, more loving and softer than he originally intended. It ended up being more of a soft rake of his fingers through his hair, fixing it away from his forehead and exposing more of the face that Richie loved so much.

Eddie nodded and took another sip of coffee before setting his mug back down on the nightstand, he stretched and yawned before swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand. Richie left the room then, giving Eddie privacy to do whatever he wanted to do in his morning routine. He trotted back down the stairs and was greeted pleasantly by Mike, Bev and Ben in the living room.

“Hey sleepy head, where’s your partner in crime?” Bev asked, cheerfully, holding her own cup of coffee close.

“Excuse me _I_ was the first one up, I made the coffee this morning thank you very much.” Richie flopped himself down onto the couch next to Mike. “And I just woke Eddie’s ass up.”

“Well if it was just his ass, how is his whole body walking down the stairs?” Ben teased.

“What?” Eddie said as he walked downstairs, coffee in hand and in his pajamas still, just like the rest of them.

“Weird joke Ben…” Richie laughed.

They all chuckled a bit and Eddie sat next to Richie on the couch, tucking his legs up and crossing his legs. His face was still droopy with sleep and he held his coffee close. Richie pulled his eyes away from Eddie to notice Bill and Stan joining them. Bill carrying his Polaroid camera that hadn’t seen the light of day in _years._

“Damn Bill, did you stop at the Smithsonian on your way upstairs?” Richie teased.

“Ha-ha very funny.” Bill took an experimental picture of something on the wall. “It still works, and I thought we should commemorate our first holiday all together like this.”

“Aww that’s so sweet Bill!” Bev said.

“I call all the ones of Eddie!” Richie said, apparent joking tone carrying through, though everyone but Eddie knew he was damn serious.

Eddie scoffed into his laugh went back to drinking his coffee.

Bill crouched in front of their Christmas tree set up to snap a picture, though, it was a kind of _aesthetically pathetic_ set up. They thought it would be fun to go on a walk in the woods behind their house to find something that could be used _as_ a Christmas tree instead of actually going through the hassle of buying one and figuring out how to set it up with ornaments and stuff.

What they ended up with, was a branch off of a spruce tree that Ben had configured to stand upright. They had decorated it with various things, Richie made a few snowflakes out of his old exams and Bev went around the house finding trinkets and random small stuff that wouldn’t be too heavy for it. A few earrings, a dead lighter, and a couple of scrunchies were among the mix.

The ‘tree’ itself was on top of their coffee table, with the Christmas presents they all bought for each other in a secret Santa scattered around the tree on top and beneath of it. Richie was grateful to have gotten Eddie in the raffle, and he only realized afterwards that it very much could have been rigged. Who knows, maybe Bev wrote Eddie’s name seven times on separate tiny sheets of paper and put it in the hat he pulled from instead of writing each of their names. Either way, he was happy.

He spent the month collecting various things he thought Eddie could use or would like, he put a lot of thought into each gift, knowing that Eddie was a practical guy and wouldn’t really want a bunch of nick-nacky bull shit. A stark contrast to the gift that Connor got for him. A teddy bear that still sat in its bag in the corner of his room. It wasn’t even a _cute_ teddy bear, or one that was fun to hug, it was one of those dumb cheap ones kids win at the fair. _Richie_ was offended when he saw it and was _thrilled_ that the guy was leaving for a month.

Bill took seven photos of the tree and set them all out to set up on the floor next to the armchair he sat at.

“Okay who’s gonna be Santa?” Bev asked, eager to get started.

“I vote Mike.” Richie said raising his hand. “Mostly because I think out of all of us he’d look the hottest in a Santa suit.”

Eddie snorted with laughter next to him and Richie smiled to himself.

“I second.” Bev said then.

“I’ll just volunteer myself before this goes to far.” Mike said, laughing and standing up to begin passing out their presents.

He grabbed as many as he could, cradling them in his arm as he read the labels one by one, passing the gift to its respective person as he did so. Richie left for a minute to get his forgotten coffee from the kitchen. He topped it off with some fresh, hot coffee to mix with the cold, creating a lukewarm kind of disgusting sensation in his mouth.

When he returned he saw that Eddie had had two out of the five presents that he got for him. Mike had made a pile for him and Richie in their respective seats and Richie was amused to see that he had been matched with the beautiful and articulately wrapped presents that could only have come from one person.

“Huh, looks like Stan the Man had the pleasure of shopping for lil’ ole me this Christmas season. Perfect segue into the new tradition, don’t you think Stan?”

“I’m still Jewish, Trashmouth.” Stan said rolling his eyes, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Richie moved his own presents to the side and set his coffee on the floor as he sat down. Bev was the first to tear into her presents, a fresh pack of sewing pins and needles were her first gift.

“Thank you Mike… or Eddie?” Bev said squinting between the two of them, trying to figure out who her secret Santa had been.

“Eddie.” Eddie said waving.

“Stop waving you fucking dork.” Richie laughed.

Eddie smacked the back of his hand against his arm and scowled at him in response, causing Richie to only laugh more.

“Well thank you Eddie, I needed more of these.” Bev said.

“You’re welcome Bev.” Eddie said, as he finished his coffee and leaned to put his empty mug next to Richie’s on the ground.

“Okay, okay you open yours!” Richie said urging Eddie to open his presents, of which Mike had just finished passing out.

“Well you too! Jeez, it’s not all about me…” Eddie laughed, but reached for his first present of choice.

In Richie’s defense the wrapping wasn’t _that_ bad… he got some wrapping paper from their local dollar store, a print that had _Happy Birthday_ written repeatedly in various colors. He used Band-Aids instead of tape because the pack of Band-Aids were closer to his bedroom, and he thought it would be funny.

He wrote Eddie’s name out on top of the Band-Aids instead of folding a tiny piece of wrapping paper as a label or _crafting one_ like how Stan had done for his own presents.

Eddie snorted with laughter. “Jeez I wonder who my secret Santa was.” He said mostly to Richie.

“Okay it was me, but don’t tell anyone because it’s a secret.”

Eddie mimed zipping his lips closed and got to work opening the weirdly shaped package. Richie knew exactly what it was and was excited for Eddie to see it. He tore open the wrapping paper and a smile spread across his face as he realized what the gift was.

A brand-new red canvas backpack. Eddie had been using the same backpack since their freshman year of high school, something dorky and plain, grey and green, not his vibe at all in Richie’s opinion. He went to the mall, in pursuit of a _different_ gift, and the bag caught his eye. He knew immediately that he had to buy it.

“Wow… thanks Richie.” Eddie smiled his honest, bright smile. Adorable dimples and smile lines defining his beautiful grin.

Richie returned the smile and nodded. “You like it?”

“Yes! I love it, this is perfect!” Eddie held the bag out in front of him, messing with the zippers and running his hands along the straps.

“Good, I’m happy you like it.”

“You open your stuff now.” Eddie said smirking at him.

Richie did what he was told and picked up one of his own presents. Richie knew by the mere _feel_ of the gift that it was defiantly either socks of underwear. He tore open the beautiful wrapping to find a pack of excitingly colored socks. They reminded him of the kind of carpet one would see at an arcade, or a movie theater, black with neon shapes and exciting patterns.

“Thanks Stan!” Richie never thought that he would be _actually_ excited about socks, but he was, they were cool fucking socks.

“Don’t mention it.” Stan said from across the room.

Eddie tore open another present as Richie tugged on a pair of the socks, wiggling his foot in front of Mike’s face when he got one of them on.

“Look at what I got Mikey…” Richie said. Earning him a slap on his foot and a mix between a laugh and a scoff from Mike.

“Oh!” Eddie said next to him, excitement carrying through his voice.

Richie looked to see what gift he was referring to, of which he was already trying on. When Richie saw the matching sweat band set he knew he had to grab it, it came with one to wear on your head as well as two for each of your wrists. Richie wasn’t sure why people need sweat bands for your wrists, but he figured he wasn’t a runner and that’s why he didn’t know. They were white with a red stripe through the middle, reminding him immediately of the dorky socks and red and white short combo that Eddie wore during his morning jogs in the summer with Ben. Each of them matching the red and white color scheme.

Richie called them dorky, but oh _God_ did he love seeing Eddie in that get-up. Buying the sweat bands was one of the easiest decisions he ever made in his life.

Eddie looked at him then, with the sweat band pulled over his head, pushing his fluffy messy hair into a quaff away from his forehead, he looked better than Richie imagined he would. His dorky smile plastered across his face.

“Ben are you jealous?” Eddie said pointing to his forehead.

“Yes.” Ben said laughing and shaking his head.

As Eddie tugged on each of the wrist bands Richie opened another one of his presents, he went for the biggest one, a large box that had a pretty golden bow on top, of which he peeled off carefully and stuck into his own hair. He unwrapped the present and felt his face drop into a look of excitement as he gasped.

It was an unopened box of brand-new headphones with an adapter suitable for his guitar or amplifier. Something that he has been wanting for a while now. Eddie leaned to see what Richie got.

“Oh wow!” Eddie said.

“Stan this is awesome, thanks!”

“You should thank Eddie, he’s the one that told me which ones to buy.”

“Well he’s over here acting like he’s seeing them for the first time.” Richie laughed.

“I tried okay? I really did…” Eddie chuckled too.

“Well thank you both I guess.”

“Your welcome, Rich.” Stan said.

Eddie just leaned into his side, resting his head on his shoulder for a second before sitting back up and opening another gift.

“Okay… this is a textbook.” Eddie said, weighing it in his hand and acknowledging its shape, before ripping it open.

“I would have bought all of them for you, but I didn’t have that much money.” Richie said.

“Well when you’re rich and famous you can pay me back.” Eddie teased. “Thanks Richie, you didn’t have to get me this.” Eddie thumbed through the pages of the psychology textbook that had been on the syllabus for his upcoming class.

“I wanted to get you stuff you could use you know? And you’ll be using that a lot…” Richie said.

“Fuck yeah I will be.” Eddie agreed.

Richie tore open another one of his own presents as Eddie did the same. Richie opened a pack of colored folders with a sticky note attached to it that read ‘ _See Stanley Uris for organization 101.’_

“Okay I think we should make it a rule for here on out, no sass on Christmas morning.” Richie laughed and showed his present to the rest of the group, who all just laughed and agreed with Stan.

Eddie finished opening his next present then, the smallest of all of them. A mix-tape that Richie had made. He tried his best to not include all of the songs that made him think of Eddie and instead opted for his favorites, _London Calling_ by The Clash _, Forever Young_ by Alphaville _, The Promise_ by When in Rome _,_ and _It’s Raining Men_ by the Weather Girls to name a few. Richie also decided to add _In the Garage_ by Weezer, because it always made him think of his asthmatic ass.

Eddie’s face lit up more and more as he read through the list of tracks Richie scribbled onto the label of the list.

“Oh wow! Thanks Richie!” Eddie said.

“Now you don’t have to change tapes all the time or go _fucking feral_ whenever the Weather Girls come on in the car.”

“Shut up.” Eddie said and lightly smacked his arm.

Richie laughed and tore open his last gift, a set of guitar picks, some of which fit around his thumb, giving the rest of his fingers access to pluck the higher octave strings. A useful musical invention that Richie had been dying to try out.

“Thanks, Stanny Boy! You really got the hang of Christmas already!” Richie said.

“Beep-beep Richie.” Stan replied.

“Holy shit Richie!” Eddie said then, however not in acknowledgement of the situation, rather at his final present.

“What? Do you hate them or something?”

Richie had bought Eddie a new pair of sneakers, a nice pair of Nike’s, all white leather with a bright red Nike swoosh on the side. 

“No! These are amazing!” Eddie said, staring at him like he was mad with his mouth agape.

Richie mirrored his face and shook it a bit, jutting his head forward and motioning his hands as if to say, ‘what’s the problem.’

“How much money did you spend on me?” Eddie said, taking one of the shoes out of the box and pulling out the tissue paper stuffed into the toe of the shoe.

“I don’t know!” Richie said.

Eddie tugged on the shoe and it fit like a glove.

“How do you know my shoe size?” Eddie asked.

“I measured your feet when you were asleep.” Richie said. Eddie gave him a grossed-out expression, obviously taking the bait of his joke. “No dummy, I fucking looked in one of your shoes. Plus, everything about you is a ten so…” Richie smirked and shrugged.

“Shut _up._ ” Eddie laughed and smacked his arm.

The flash of Bills Polaroid went unnoticed to Eddie in his fit of excited rage, but Richie noticed and thanked God for giving him Bill Denbrough.

“Here, put this on and give us the whole look.” Richie said, handing Eddie the backpack to put on.

“Okay…” Eddie laughed and slipped on the second shoe before standing up and swinging on the backpack.

He gave a few poses and Richie among the others cheered him on, Bill snapped a few photos, in one of which Eddie playfully blew a kiss to the camera. Richie stuck his socked foot in front of Eddie to include his new socks in one of the pictures. Eddie grabbed his foot and pretended to lick it, holding his tongue a few inches away, they all laughed, and Bill added the pictures to the collection on the ground.

Bill went around and took more pictures of everyone with their gifts. Stan and Mike started to go around the room, picking up scraps of wrapping paper. Richie stood up and stretched, intention to help clean up.

“Hey Richie, thanks again for all of the gifts.” Eddie said sheepishly in front of him, reaching his arms up as if asking for a hug.

Richie didn’t think twice before pulling Eddie into a tight hug against his chest, wrapping his arms around his neck and upper back.

“You’re welcome Eds.” Richie said.

“That’s not my name.” Eddie chuckled, but held his arms tight around Richie’s torso.

They both ignored the snap of Bill’s camera then; Richie didn’t acknowledge it because he wanted the embrace to last as long as possible, and he figured Eddie didn’t hear it.

When they finally did pull away from the embrace Richie tugged the sweatband away from Eddie’s forehead, only to have it gently snap back against it.

“I’m going to go pick out the first movie.” Richie said quickly before Eddie could give a retort about him fucking with his headband. As he shifted to walk past him, he plucked the ribbon from his head and smacked it onto Eddie’s shoulder.

He went to the dining room/library and searched through the bag of movies they picked out from Blockbuster for the occasion. If they had cable, they would simply tune into whatever channel was airing Christmas movies, but alas, they did not. So here they were, with a bag of Christmas movies to binge instead.

Richie had insisted that they also rent a few of his favorite horror movies as well, _The Exorcist, Psycho,_ and _The Shinning_ to name a few. He decided that he would have a better chance of convincing the family to put one of _those_ on later, and opted for the classic _A Christmas Story_. Fond memories of watching it back when they were in middle school sprung to his mind as he popped it into the television.

Eddie had been doubtful that the whole concept of freezing your tongue to a flagpole was real, to the point that the next time they were at school Richie tried it when Stan, Eddie, and him were hanging out outside before the start of school. And what do you know, it fucking _works._ Richie was stuck there for a good few minutes before one of the high school kids poured their hot coffee over his tongue to detach it. Eddie had been pissed off at him for the majority of the day, but they were all laughing about it by the time they were going home.

None of them really paid much attention to the movie as they ran around the house doing various things, all of them put their presents away to their respective rooms. Bill and Mike worked in the kitchen to make them a pancake breakfast, with eggs and bacon. Richie couldn’t help but notice how Eddie kept on his sweatbands, he looked _adorably dorky_ with the whole, sweatband-saggy pajama duo. His saggy white tee shirt and thin grey sweatpants that he _fucking cuffed_ , paired with a sweatband on each of his wrists and one across his forehead.

Richie wanted to kiss him like this, in such a relaxed outfit, actively wearing something that Richie bought for him that he had _no reason_ other than that to be wearing. He looked like a dream, so much so that Richie felt the need to pinch himself.

He watched from the couch in the living room as Eddie sorted all of the school stuff on the table in the next room, trying to transition it from library to dining room for their breakfast. Richie got up to help him, because how could he not.

“You should really put your name on your stuff Richie.” Eddie said, acknowledging his presence.

“Why should I have to if you guys all put your name on _your_ stuff.” Richie replied as he helped to move some of the piles onto the bookshelf to get them out of the way.

“Because what if you drop this exam on campus and someone in your class claimed it as their own?” Eddie asked, sliding one of his recent exam forms towards him. “That’s an ‘A’ Richie, for a _Biology_ class, that’s like fucking gold around here, we all know how difficult that class is.”

Eddie gave him this raised-eyebrow look, a mix of concern, a scold, and pride.

Richie smirked at him in response. Eddie was always the first to congratulate Richie about his grades, and frequently bragged about Richie’s grades for him when the social situation arose. It always warmed Richie’s heart knowing how proud Eddie was of him.

“You’re right…” Richie said, glancing at the exam and adding it to his own stack of papers.

“I know.” Eddie said laughing.

Richie laughed too, because it was a reflex, when Eddie laughed, Richie laughed, that’s just how it is.

“Breakfast is ready!” Mike called from the kitchen.

Richie and Eddie finished clearing the table as everyone else made their plates in the kitchen, joining them when they were finished. They all piled a good amount of food onto their plates and doused their pancakes with syrup before heading into the _now dining room_.

As they ate Richie stole pieces of scrambled egg off of Eddie’s plate which earned him a few kicks beneath the table and a flash of the scowl he loved so much. Richie quite literally _giggled_ around his mouthful of eggs and Eddie just shook his head and went back to eating.

The white noise of the television in the background was something comforting and familiar, it reminded him of mornings growing up when they would all watch cartoons and eat cereal at Bill’s house after their sleepovers. Richie loved that those memories were linked with the six who sat with him now.

After breakfast, Richie, Mike, Stan and Bill went to the kitchen, Eddie, Bev, and Ben went to the family room to watch what was left of the movie.

Richie had agreed to help make a few of the dishes for their Christmas dinner, and that’s just what he planned to do. Stan worked to clean up what was left over of their breakfast and Richie got to work prepping for the mashed potatoes. Mike pulled two chickens out of the fridge and Richie snorted, they had to get two chickens because one turkey would _never_ fit in the tiny pathetic oven they had. Richie had even planned to cook the cornbread and green bean casserole in the toaster oven they had on the countertop to accommodate, leaving Mike full access to the one that was built into the kitchen.

Richie worked to peal the potatoes and cut them into diced pieces before putting them into a pot of water to boil. He liked cooking with Mike, his energy was perfect for shit like this. Richie teased him whenever he would check up on something on the stove and nod his head approvingly, the face expression he made in those moments was priceless, Richie would always imitate him, and Mike would always laugh.

Having Stan and Bill in the kitchen was nice too. Bill worked on the stuffing and Stan cleaned up after all of them. _‘Keeping up with the chaos’_ is what he called it.

Whenever Richie felt he could step away from cooking for a few minutes he slipped on his boots and stepped out onto the porch for a quick cigarette, the familiar urge creeping up on him, having realized he’s gone the whole morning without one.

When he was finished he returned to the kitchen to find that the potatoes were done boiling, he strained, seasoned, and _mashed_ the potatoes, then he covered the pot and set it aside. He then quickly whipped up the batter for the cornbread and popped it into the toaster oven. While that was cooking, he got to work on the green bean casserole. He was working surprisingly fast and efficiently and he was happy about it, for how much he loved cooking with Mike, Bill, and Stan, he desperately wanted to be in the family room lounging around watching movies with Eddie, Ben, and Bev.

He was finished with the prep for the green bean casserole by the time the cornbread was finished, the perfect timing called for another one of Mikes approving nods, Richie imitated him, and it pulled a laugh from each of them. He replaced the cornbread with the green bean casserole in the toaster oven and set a timer. He took that time to cut the corn bread and set it aside with the mashed potatoes.

He made sure Bill and Mike didn’t need help with anything else before he left to go lounge in the family room. He walked into what seemed to be a conversation about their dinner later.

“I just think it would be nice if we all dressed up!” Bev was saying, a cheery expression on her face.

“Oh, I agree, there’s no convincing that needs to be done here.” Eddie said from his spot on one of the couches.

“Oh, are we playing dress up again? I call the cowboy boots this time!” Richie joked as he sat on the couch next to Eddie.

“No, we were talking about for dinner later, I was saying it would be fun if we all dressed up, like we’re classy.” Bev explained, batting her eyelashes and pursing her lips with the last part of her sentence.

Richie groaned at that.

“See _that’s_ what I was talking about.” Eddie said, pointing his thumb towards Richie.

“Oh, come _on_ Richie! You have all those nice clothes and you never get to wear them!”

“Come on Richie, I can pick out an outfit for you.” Eddie offered.

Richie raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips as if he was considering. Richie would like to have an insight as to what Eddie thinks Richie should be wearing, so that he can wear that outfit and _only_ that outfit all the time of course.

“And _I_ can do your makeup.” Bev teased, obviously joking, but Richie decided that he wanted to have more fun than just _dressing up_.

“Okay deal.”

“Wait are you serious, you actually want me to do your makeup?” Bev clarified.

“Fuck yes, you owe me remember?”

“We should paint his nails too.” Eddie said nodding.

“Oh my God and do his hair!” Bev yelled with excitement.

“My body is your temple, do with it what you will.”

“Why do you have to say it like that…” Eddie said laughing hopelessly 

“I’ll get the shit!” Bev said before jumping off the couch and running to her room.

As if on cue, the timer for the green bean casserole went off in the kitchen. Richie stood up and went to check on it, he opened the door to the oven and decided that it was done, he pulled out the casserole and put it with the mashed potatoes and corn bread before turning off the oven.

“Heads up, Bev wants us to dress up for dinner.” Richie said to Bill, Stan, and Mike, who all acknowledged him in their own ways and then went back to whatever they were doing.

When Richie returned to the living room Eddie was knelt in front of their bag of movies, digging through to choose what to put on next.

“I get next pick.” Richie said, leaning next to Eddie to also dig through the bag.

“No, you got first pick!” Eddie shoved him a bit with his elbow.

“You guys are going to be poking and prodding at me for the next hour, at least let me have something enjoyable to watch!” Richie elbowed him back, matching the almost _gentle_ force that Eddie administered in his own shove.

“Fine what the fuck do you consider enjoyable?” Eddie sat back on his ankles and gave Richie full access to the bag.

“ _Your mother sucks cocks in hell!_ ” Richie growled, imitating Regan from _The Exorcist_ as he tossed the film at Eddie.

“I should have known.” Eddie said groaning. “Richie this movie is fucking disgusting! This is not a Christmas movie!”

“I never said it was a Christmas movie!” Richie retorted.

Eddie groaned and swapped the movies out in their VHS player.

Bev came barreling in then, dumping her collection of cosmetics and nail polish on the ground.

“Oh shit… Ben can you run and get my comb? The wide tooth one.”

Ben nodded and went to fetch the comb.

“Oh fuck. Bev you are _not_ combing my hair.” Richie whirled around and pointed a firm finger. Flash backs of the last time she tackled his nest of curls dashed through his mind, his neck and scalp aching for _hours_ after the event. She had been so rough and firm with his hair that tears prickled his eyes and his neck was jerked every which way.

“Fine, then Eddie will.” She said arranging her assortment of bottles and plastic casings on the ground.

“Thank God.” Richie sighed and stood up.

He situated himself on the ground next to Bev, he crossed his legs and tried to focus on the movie and act as if he wasn’t getting all giddy about the attention he was about to receive from Eddie and Bev, but especially Eddie. Ben returned with the comb and Eddie knelt behind Richie, his body was so _aware_ of Eddie’s closeness that his entire back felt as if it picked up on his warmth. As if he sat in front of a bonfire.

“This is just water, use it when you use this...” Bev handed Eddie a tiny pink spray bottle, then another spray bottle that was obviously come kind of product.

“What _is_ it though?” Eddie asked.

“Detangler.” Bev replied. “Oh, and once it’s all combed out run this through it with your fingers.”

She handed him another product, this one in a small pot, with a screw on lid.

“It’s for curly hair, it makes it less frizzy and all over the place.”

“That’s my signature, you can’t take away my signature…” Richie said, teasing.

“For once in your life, just let us see you with nice hair.” Bev said.

“Hey, my hair is _nice_ what the fuck does that mean!? Eds back me up here!”

“That’s not my name.”

Bev just laughed so Richie laughed too, stopping abruptly at the sensation of Eddie’s gentle fingers at the nape of his neck, racking his fingers through the curls there as if to see _how_ tangled they really were. Shivers raced down Richie’s back and sent a wave of wiggles through his shoulders.

“Jesus Richie how fucking touch starved are you?” Bev asked laughing still, Eddie laughed along with her.

“I’m not! It’s just a reflex! Like when someone gives you chills!” Richie defended himself, ignoring the fact that his face was grinning like an idiot. He knew deep down that if it were anyone else’s fingers at the back of his neck, the sensation wouldn’t have been _nearly_ as electric. Eddie’s touch always had that effect, sensation streaming through his veins and registering the event in his mind, as if to bookmark the moment in the story they shared together, marking it as ‘ _one of the moments that Richie felt as if he could start a fire with the snap of his fingers.’_

“Sure, yeah whatever…” Bev chuckled, shifting to sit in front of him holding a bottle of nail polish.

Richie couldn’t focus on the movie and he _really_ couldn’t focus on Bev in front of him because Eddie was combing his hair as if he wasn’t at all, his touch was _so gentle_. He felt the teeth of the comb on his scalp and the way it caught on his hair, and it put his eyelids heavy and his face relaxed. Richie felt his head dipping forward and caught it quickly, he didn’t need another comment from Bev about how much he was _enjoying_ this.

Eddie alternated between using the comb and his own fingers, allowing each of them to trace down the back of his neck. The detangler and water combination dampened his hair a ton, which added another layer to the whole experience, the cold chill of his damp hair on his neck with the gentle scrape of Eddie’s fingers or the comb.

“Damn I think we figured out how to shut him up.” Bev commented, snapping her fingers in front of his face as if waking him up.

“Fuck off Bev.” Richie snapped, he couldn’t help how much he was melting at the rake of Eddie’s fingers and the bristles of the comb raking across his scalp, with copious amounts of ease and gentleness. Every urge he may have had to say something disappeared into fog in his mind as his eyes lulled closed and his head tipped back.

No one has ever really treated Richie’s hair this way, even growing up, his mom would comb through his hair after his showers, tugging and scratching at his scalp in a way that sprung tears to his eyes. Bev had been no different, neither of them meant any harm, they were trying their best to work through the knots and comb his hair as fast as they could. Eddie on the other hand, was different. And Richie loved it.

Bev grabbed one of his hands then, laying it flat on her lap and opening the bottle of neon creamsicle orange nail polish. He watched for a minute as she neatly painted his stubby fingernails, then tipped his head back again so Eddie could easily comb the crown of his head.

“You look like a greaser.” Eddie chuckled, commenting at how wet his hair was.

“Hot.” Richie replied.

Bev moved onto his other hand and he brought the now painted one up to his field of vision, the color only accentuated how long and bony his fingers actually were. Like a flame on top of a candle stick. He liked it.

“I think this is one of the best colors ever.” Richie said, admiring his fingers.

“I knew you’d like it.” Bev said, focused on her work.

He heard Eddie shift behind him, setting down the comb and picking up the pot of product. Soon his fingers were back in his hair, racking the product through. The smell was all too familiar, the smell of Bev.

She too had curly hair, he had only just realized how well kept her hair was compared to his own, her curls were always shiny and well defined, tufts of hair falling neatly with each other in spirals. Richie’s were, well… sometimes frizzy, and sometimes greasy, but almost always a mess. Sometimes his hair kind of _worked out_ on its own and others it just _didn’t_ , on those days, hats were his best friend.

He was excited to see how it would look after the same care that Bev puts into her own hair. He was excited to see how _Eddie_ did his hair…

The rake of Eddie’s fingers alone had been _far_ better than them combined with the comb, the way he trailed the very tips of his fingers down the back of his neck, through the length of his hair, sent _chills_ through his back and shoulders. He shimmied a bit on impulse, and was happy when no one said anything about it again.

“Okay don’t touch anything.” Bev shifted in her seat to reach for what Richie suspected to be makeup.

“That’s a lot to ask from me Bev.”

“Just a few minutes, for the nail polish to dry and not get all over the fucking house.”

“Okay, but I am going to have to piss soon.”

“Gross Richie.” Eddie scoffed from behind him.

Richie laughed, so Bev did too.

She plucked his glasses from his face and squeezed something into her palm then, before using the tips of her fingers to rub whatever it was into his skin.

“What is this?” Richie asked, following the movements of her hand as best he could with his eyes.

“BB cream.”

“I’m just going to act like I know what that means.”

Bev laughed. “It’s like foundation but not as thick.”

“I’ll act like I know what that is too.” Richie chuckled.

“I’m going to go find an outfit.” Eddie said standing, using Richie’s shoulders for balance as he did so.

Richie loved the way Eddie’s weight felt on him, even if it was just for a moment and purely to help get him to his feet. Richie sure was a yearning bastard.

“Okay.” Bev said, continuing her work on Richie’s face.

“Am I going to look like Frank-N-Furter from _Rocky Horror_ after this?”

“Oh _God_ no, I’m just doing something natural.”

“Cool. We could probably do the Frank-N-Furter look another day.”

“Yeah, we need the outfit first.” Bev agreed.

Richie snorted a laugh and they giggled together, imagining Richie in the iconic Frank-N-Furter outfit.

When Bev was finished with his face, she smudged some eyeliner around the corner of his eyes, the sensation was weird and _so uncomfortable_.

“Okay I need you to stay still.” Bev said, unscrewing something cylindrical.

“Oh God what is _that!?”_ Richie asked, alarmed at the black stick that appeared to have _spikes_ spindling out of the bottom of it.

“Mascara.” She said nonchalant.

“This is going to fucking hurt I know it.”

“No it’s not dummy, not if you stay still.” She cupped his face and pulled him closer, resting the side of her hand against his cheekbone with the applicator in hand.

“Bev if you blind me I’m telling Eddie.” Richie teased, imagining how much Eddie would freak out about the occurrence.

“I’m not going to _blind you_.” Bev laughed. “Just look at my chin and don’t move.”

“Oh fuck, fuck, _fuck…”_ Richie said as she combed the product through his lashes. The sensation was _far weirder_ than the eyeliner. He decided that he hated everything about the feeling of wearing makeup, and had a new respect for those who opted to wear it every day.

Bev instructed him to look up and blink whenever appropriate until she was satisfied with the look of his first eye, moving to the second, the whole process was repeated. Richie felt _such an urge_ to rub at his eyes then, and used every ounce of his being to _not_ do just that.

He found himself blinking far more than usual, eyes irritated and confused with the sensation of makeup on them.

When Bev was completely finished she returned his glasses to his face and held a compact mirror up so he could look at himself. He took the mirror from her hand and gave himself a good look. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it; in fact, he thinks that he _did._ He never really noticed the blue of his eyes until now, they looked _more blue_ and _less grey_ now.

“Damn, I’m hot… I think.” Richie said laughing, turning his face and noticing how his cheekbones quite literally _glistened_. “Why am I sparkling?”

“It’s highlighter.” Bev laughed.

“Okay.” Richie said, laughing too, mostly over the fact that Bev acted as if the explanation would help him at all.

Eddie came trotting down the stairs then. “Sorry it took so long, I had to iron everything, because someone decides not to hang shit up and just crumples everything into his drawers.” Eddie rambled as he lay his outfit selection out on the couch as to not wrinkle them again.

“They would have smoothed out eventually once I put them on.”

“No, they wouldn’t have. That’s not how it works.”

“Works for me.” Richie said shrugging and standing up.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Richie admired his choice of outfit, black V-neck tee shirt, one of his tighter fitting Hawaiian shirts that looked nice buttoned, black dress pants, and a pair of socks that complimented the greens and yellows of the Hawaiian shirt with its print of baby yellow ducks on a black background.

“Well this is what I wear every day.” Richie said. “Besides the dress pants I guess, and you matched the socks.”

“Yeah, but it’s _how_ you wear it. You have to button the shirt and tuck it into the pants. Also, you have to cuff the pants and put on a belt, which I couldn’t find.”

“Ben has one you can borrow.” Bev said scooping up her pile of products and walking to her room.

“So, what do you think.” Richie said, leaning down and cupping his hands around his face, as if to frame it to show off Bev’s work.

He fluttered his eyelashes a bit and couldn’t help but notice the way that a blush dusted across Eddie’s cheeks and nose, beneath his freckles. His eyes widened and his eyebrows inched higher as his mouth parted. They stood like that for a while, Richie’s eyelashes no longer fluttering and his face falling more into a focus on reading Eddie’s.

The moment turned quickly stiff when Eddie didn’t say anything about it, he just… _stared_. Not stared, _gazed_ , he _gazed_ because his face looked lost, but focused, eyes flickering between each of Richie’s and the dopey expression that may confuse as one of adoration still present.

“Jeez I didn’t think I looked _that ugly_ …” Richie said, finally breaking the moment and chuckling.

“No! No, you look good… Bev did a good job…” Eddie said _painfully awkward._

“We should take a picture and send it to my mom… I secretly think she always wanted a girl.” Richie said, trying his best to joke them away from the tension of the moment.

“That’s not true.” Eddie said, scrunching his face. “What makes you think _that!?”_

Thank God Eddie was back to normal.

“One night I woke up to her dressing me in a fluffy pink tutu.” Richie said the first thing that came to mind, not at _all_ true and a half assed attempt of maintaining their normal dynamic so that Eddie doesn’t give him _that look_ again.

“That’s a fucking _lie_ if I’ve ever heard one.” Eddie said bending over to pick up the clothes.

“Yeah it is…” Richie laughed, accepting the bundle of clothes that Eddie handed to him.

“Now go change.” Eddie instructed.

“Anything for you Eddie K.” Richie teased with whimsy as he walked up the stairs.

“Shut _up._ ” Eddie said scoffing.

Richie changed quickly, tearing off the tee shirt and pajama pants he had been wearing and pulling on the outfit that Eddie chose. He had picked one of his _nicer_ Hawaiian shirts, one that still had all of the buttons and was actually his size. It fit him well, and apparently Eddie noticed. He buttoned the shirt according to Eddie’s instruction and left the top one undone, because looking _that prim and proper_ was uncomfortable and didn’t feel right. He pulled on the pants and decided to let Bev or Eddie cuff them. The socks were a favorite of his and he was happy that they were matched again.

When he came back downstairs Bev handed him the belt and he strung it through the loops of his pants, fastening it a few holes past where it seems to have had the most wear from Ben.

“Tada!” Richie said, with an opened mouth smile and jazz hands in front of Eddie and Bev.

“Hold on.” Eddie said rolling his eyes. He then knelt to the ground in front of him and Richie felt his heart flutter, Eddie cuffed the pants at his ankles and fixed the socks so that they were sitting better on his feet while he was down there.

Richie’s face must have been beet red because Bev shot him a silent teasing look which he scowled at. When Eddie stood up again, he adjusted the collar of his shirt, so it lay better around his neck, and unbuttoned the second button of his shirt. Richie bit the inside of his cheek.

“There.” Eddie said, stepping back now, returning to his spot next to Bev with his hands at his hips.

“You look hot Richie. Especially with that second button undone now.” Bev giggled.

“Me? Hot? No way… I’ve got to see this for myself.” Richie joked, walking into Ben and Bev’s bedroom to view himself in Bev’s full-length mirror.

His hair wasn’t entirely dry yet, but it was close, and he could really see a difference in the way the product held his curls together better. They were _glossier_ and less frizzy and all over the place.

“Damn Eds you should do my hair all the time.” Richie said, running his fingers through it like he usually did, and _feeling_ the difference too, softer and healthier.

“Stop using two in one shampoo and I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, that’s perfect because I was actually thinking of switching to _three_ in one.”

Eddie shook his head and scoffed.

The outfit looked good too, Richie liked the way that the outfit was _nice_ but still exciting. He could dress up without wearing bland button up shirts and boring plain socks. He was more than happy with Eddie’s choice in attire.

“New Years is Eddie’s turn.” Richie teased, as he turned to leave the room.

“What!? No, it’s not, I _know_ how to dress up thank you very much.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know how _I_ would dress you…” Richie teased as he sat on the couch, with intention to watch what was left of _the Exorcist._

“Oh, I want to see that.” Bev said leaning against the back of the couch.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Is that a threat?” Richie said, amused with how goofy Eddie was being about the whole thing.

“Yes.” Eddie said after a beat, as if considering.

“Fine then Spaghetti, you, me, your closet, New Years Eve.” Richie said squinting at him and sticking out his hand.

“That’s not my fucking name.” Eddie took his hand and gave it a shake, his grip fell after the normal amount of time it takes to shake someone’s hand, but Richie’s didn’t. He held onto Eddie’s hand for as long as it took him to pry it off. Richie laughed, but it was really just an excuse to hold Eddie’s hand.

After that, everyone left to get themselves ready for dinner, of which was now finished and waiting for them in the kitchen. Richie sat by himself in the living room watching the rest of the movie. Laughing to himself at all of his favorite parts, most of which Eddie would call gross.

One by one, each of the others joined him, Ben, Bill, Mike, and Stan in that order. Eddie always took a comically long time to get ready, and Richie thinks that it was mostly due to his own hair routine, he liked to comb back his hair and style It in such a way that suppressed its natural curl, of which Richie _loved._ He loved Eddie no matter what, but the way his hair looked at the end of the day or right after he wakes up, was definitely a sight to behold, all curly and disheveled. It was a stark contrast to his usual appearance and that struck a chord of trust and intimacy in their relationship. He was happy that he was lucky enough to be close enough to Eddie to be able to see him like that.

As if on cue, Eddie and Bev joined the rest of them in the living room and Bill flicked off the television, announcing something about them going to eat now. And that’s just what they did, they all filed through the kitchen, scooping food onto their plates, Richie snatching the piece of corn bread Eddie had on his plate and put it on his own, Eddie elbowed him and grabbed another. They all ate and joked together like normal as they worked their way through the feast.

Dinner was delicious and they all took turns complimenting Mike, Richie, and Bill over their cooking as they sat back in their chairs cradling their aching stomachs and dreading the idea of standing up. Stan had been the first to take his plate to the sink, washing his utensils and adding them to the rack, they all trailed behind him and did the same, it was a collective effort as they put the left overs away and cleaned up the kitchen and dining room.

When everything was finished, they all retired to the living room, Richie lay his body across one of the couches and unbuttoned his shirt, untucking it from his pants.

“Hey asshole, where is everyone else supposed to sit?” Eddie asked, even though they both knew he was only referring to himself.

Richie picked up his feet and smirked, he was so unbelievably bloated and tired that the idea of sitting up right now was very disappointing.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat down, Richie setting his feet and calves on his lap, shimmying into the couch as if he was making himself more comfortable.

“I hope your comfy.” Eddie said, in a teasing tone with a smirk on his lips.

“I am _now._ ” Richie said, shimmying his feet together on Eddie’s lap.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

Bill turned on the television and took _the Exorcist_ out of the VHS player, only to replace it with _It’s a Wonderful Life._ Richie knew immediately that he would fall asleep in maybe twenty minutes flat. He reached behind his head, feeling around for the blanket they kept in the basket next to the couch, his shirt rode up a bit through his straining efforts of waving his hands over the side of the arm of the couch to find what he was looking for. When he _finally_ had a hold of the blanket he settled back onto the couch.

In the split second of time where Richie’s arms were still over his head holding the blanket, his eyes locked with Eddie’s face, Richie _blushed_ when he noticed that Eddie’s gaze was locked to the strip of skin of his abdomen that shown in result to his struggle with the blanket.

“Oh yeah.” Richie said, reaching down to unfasten the belt that he remembered wasn’t his, to return it to his rightful owner, but also to see Eddie get all flustered over the fact that Richie had noticed his gaze. He yanked the belt off once he got it unfastened, picking his hips up as he did so. “Here Ben.” Richie tossed the belt to him across the room.

When Richie’s gaze returned to Eddie’s face, he saw just how flustered he was, cheeks red and his jaw tight, his eyes focused intently on the television screen. Richie smirked to himself and draped the blanket over the both of them. Settling more onto his side so he could also watch the television, he was sure to keep his feet on Eddie’s lap, because he loved the way his hands fell to his calves once the blanket was there.

With the blanket pulled up to his chin and Eddie’s warmth combined with the boring ass black and white movie in front of him, Richie was the first to fall asleep, eyes tired from the strain of makeup and succumbing to the food-coma. Richie didn’t know this, but eventually everyone else except for Eddie had fallen asleep, because Bill picked just about the most boring movie he could. Eddie then felt himself struggling to stay awake, and considered for the briefest moment about going upstairs to his bed, but instead decided to glance over to Richie, who was turned on his side, glasses askew, and his hair fanned out over the arm of the couch.

Eddie decided to say fuck it and fit himself into the Eddie-sized crack between the back of the couch and Richie’s sleeping form. It wasn’t weird for them to sleep next to each other like this, they just didn’t do it much anymore because there was no more curling up together in one of their beds or in Bill’s basement back in Derry, but the urge had always been there.

He slotted himself behind Richie’s body and situated the blanket around himself. He gently plucked Richie’s glasses off of his face, folded them and set them on top of the back of the couch before draping his arm around his torso and holding him close, ignoring the throb of his heart over the fact that Richie would never love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the playlist that Richie made for Eddie! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XsPLbzfTLlPUTdaFKTAH2?si=isv2dcH8T06G15nAwW9z5Q


	6. Occitipal Lobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SECOND house party that Richie will never forget... mostly because of how much it hurt.

The start of spring semester had been annoying. In fact, it was almost _painful_ referring to the semester as ‘spring’ because _nothing_ about the state of the outdoors said ‘spring’. Snow and ice covered the ground still and it was getting fucking annoying. Richie decided to blame his constant stream of annoyance on the weather instead of dwelling on the fact that Connor was back in town.

Richie almost started to _forget_ about him, considering how little Eddie spoke of him during their entire break. It had really just been the two of them again, partners in crime, staying up late into the night watching movies and playing games. Richie loved it, he felt like him and Eddie were normal again. The normal for them of course being constant confused lingering gazes and wandering sleepy hands. They were inseparable again and Richie grew spoiled with the attention. Because now _Connor_ was back, and Eddie was spending time with him, and _talking_ about him again, which sucked _ass._

Richie’s classes were another wave of bullshit, but _this_ wave of bullshit involved zero Chemistry, so he was happy with his schedule. He even recognized a few acquaintances in some of his lectures which was nice, having a couple familiar faces in class really helped with the awkwardness of the beginning of a semester.

It was the end of their first week of classes and Bev had apparently gotten word of a party happening at one of their neighboring houses. They all planned to go, even Stan and Mike had planned to tag along. Richie was excited that they were _all_ going, and looked forward to seeing Mike and Stan (especially) let off some steam. Eddie hadn’t said anything about Connor going, which had made Richie even happier about the whole thing.

They all got ready, well, everyone except for Richie, who decided to just wear what he wore to school. His clothes always gave off a party vibe anyway, so he really didn’t see the point in changing.

Once everyone was ready to go, they all embarked on their journey.

“Richie I can’t believe you didn’t wear a real coat.” Eddie grumbled next to him; his voice muffled by the scarf covering his face.

“This is a real coat!” Richie said, shrugging his shoulders to his statement with his un-gloved hands buried into the pockets.

“A leather jacket is _not at_ _all_ Maine winter attire.”

“It is if you’re me and the party is like, two seconds away.”

“It’s negative two degrees out here!” Eddie argued.

“And I can _see_ the party from here!” Richie snapped back, amused tone to his voice.

Eddie just scoffed and shook his head, Richie only knew he shook his head because that’s what usually came along with his scoffing, he didn’t actually _see_ it. He couldn’t see it because of the scarf Eddie wore over his face beneath the giant fur lined hood of his puffy winter jacket. Richie smirked at how bundled up he was. He dressed as if he was about to embark on a journey to the top of mount Everest with his massive boots and fleece lined jeans, not to mention the layers on his upper half. It was adorable.

They were at the party in under five minutes and once they were actually there, it took Eddie a full two minutes to shed himself of his layers.

“Holy shit that’s you Eds? I thought you were the fucking Michelin Man!” Richie teased as he took Eddie’s coat and hung it in the closet as he shed his scarf and gloves.

“Ha-ha, neither of those are my fucking name and you are so unoriginal that, that in itself is funny.” Eddie replied, shoving his gloves and scarf into the pockets of his coat on the hanger.

“Ah, what would I do without my number one critic.” Richie laughed, swinging his arm around Eddie’s shoulders as they walked through the house, loosely following Bev.

“I’m your _only_ critic you un-famous asshole.” Eddie laughed as well.

They all retrieved their drink of choice from the kitchen, Richie decided on just a beer, and planned for it to be his only one for the night. This kitchen was far bigger and much nicer than their own, hell the whole _house_ was far bigger and much nicer than their own. The kitchen was probably the size of theirs combined with their dining room, not too many people were hanging out in there so they set up camp, Richie sat on one of the counters next to Bev. Ben and Eddie hung out near them, Stan, Mike and Bill were close by, deep in their own conversation. They chatted and sipped at their drinks, singing along to the music blaring from the living room next door when a song they knew came on.

Richie loved it when they were all like this, the stress of classes not too heavy, light enough where they could all party together and let off some steam. They all radiated an energy so cheerful and bright, and Richie felt as if he absorbed so much of it, that he might glow when the lights turned off. Even Stan bobbed his head and tapped his fingers in the air along to a few songs he liked, and Richie lived for it. He was so happy that fucking _Stan_ decided to come with them to a party at a stranger’s house to drink alcohol and _party_ and on top of it all, was having a _good fucking time_.

Richie beamed at all of his friends, but especially Eddie who was jumping in front of him currently, screaming the lyrics to _Everybody Wants to Rule the World_ by Tears for Fears in his face and Richie was screaming them right back. He was nowhere near drunk, but he didn’t need to be. He and Eddie pointed at one another to accentuate a particular line that they felt needed emphasis and they mirrored each other’s grins as they sang along.

They were having fun, until they weren’t. Eddie didn’t see, and Richie so desperately wanted to hold his face there, looking at him, so that he couldn’t see Connor walk into the room in search of alcohol, with some guy attached to his hip. Richie couldn’t help the face he made, dropping immediately to something between anger and surprise.

Connor and Richie locked eyes for a second, he stopped dead in his tracks and the guy he had glued to him must have sensed the tension, because he quite literally scurried away. It was then that Eddie turned around and saw him.

“What are you guys doing here?” Connor asked.

It was such a dumb-ass question, that Richie _physically_ couldn’t hold back his reply.

“Because we live right down the block and aren’t old enough to buy our own alcohol.” The tone of Richie’s voice made it sound as if it was a question.

“Oh yeah, duh. I forgot you all weren’t twenty-one.”

“You seriously didn’t know the age of your boyfriend and his friends?” Richie asked, in the bitchiest tone he could muster, because how dumb do you have to be to not know the age of your boyfriend and his friends.

“I knew Eddie was nineteen…” Connor replied, as if Richie was the dumb one.

“He’s fucking twenty.” Richie said eyes squinting, searing across the room and directly into Connors fucking _soul._ If looks could kill Connor would be a dead man, but looks in fact _couldn’t kill_ so Richie just imagined him blowing up into smithereens in his head.

“What game are you fucking playing at man?” Connor asked then, obviously extremely pissed.

“Richie don’t.” Eddie said, and Bev grabbed his arm as he jumped off of the counter.

“Come on Eddie lets go dance, I’ll show you a better time than these losers.” His speech was slurred, and he was obviously pretty buzzed. He stood there holding his hand out to Eddie as if he’d come over and take it.

“No.” Eddie said.

“Come on Eddie it’ll be fun. I’ll take you home to my place after.”

“I don’t want to.” Eddie said so firmly, it sent chills up Richie’s spine, an accent to the way his hands were shaking at his sides.

“Come on _babe_ you mean to tell me you don’t want to come home with me so I can fuck you into the mattress how you like it?” Connor took a few steps closer to them and Richie took a deep breath because he knew what he had to do.

In a swift motion before Eddie could even _think_ of a reply, Richie listened to his instinct. With his left hand, Richie ripped his glasses from his face, preparing for what he knew would come next. He tossed his glasses behind him to where Bev still sat on the counter and hoped that she caught them because next, he planted his back foot on the ground and used all of the strength and power he could muster to send his balled fist right towards Connor’s fucking face.

He felt the punch _land_ , he couldn’t quite tell _where,_ but he knew it hit something, and hit it _hard_. Whether it was his cheekbone, eyebrow, jaw, or nose, Richie wouldn’t know unless someone told him, because he couldn’t see shit without his glasses and was currently being thrown to the middle of the kitchen floor by his shirt.

The beating that came next was one for the books, kicks to his ribs, and punches to his face that sent the familiar rush of iron across his taste buds. He tried to ball himself up on the ground, pulling his arms up to protect his face from further damage, only to result in more kicks to his stomach and ribs. The all too familiar sound of the breath being knocked out if him repeatedly with each thud of Connor’s shoe against his torso.

The beatings stopped, and he heard screams that he knew could only be his friends, he tried to open his eyes and see but he couldn’t see _anything_. For a second he forgot that when you take your glasses off, normally… people don’t just see _black…_

“Richie! Richie! Look at me! You have to stand up, quick!” The voice was Eddie’s, he felt hands at the sides of his face.

He heard Connor screaming some bull shit that he couldn’t register because he was too busy freaking out about being fucking blind.

“I-I can’t see anything!” Richie yelled, terror carrying through his voice.

“You took your glasses off! Bev has them, come on we have to go!”

“No, Eddie… Eddie it’s _black_ I can’t see anything!” Richie wailed.

Eddie made a sound of scarred shock above him, the sound of his voice and emotions getting caught in his throat before suddenly his hands were gone.

“You _fucking fucked_ his occipital lobe you fucking asshole! I’m going to fucking kill you!” Eddie shrieked and his voice drifted away.

Richie sobbed now, terrified. Scared now about not knowing where Eddie was and if he was also getting the shit beat out of him now. He felt hands on his face again, but he knew they weren’t Eddie’s.

“Richie honey come on… you’ve got to get up.” It was Bev, Richie could tell by the sound of her voice that she was crying.

“Bev, I can’t. I can’t see anything!” Richie sobbed.

“Just close your eyes, it won’t be as scary, come on I’m going to help you up, we have to get you out of here.” Bev’s voice was hurried, and Richie felt her grab each of his hands.

Richie did what he was told, and it made no difference, black went to black as he closed his eyes, but at least now, it kind of made sense.

“What the fuck is an occipital lobe?” Richie wailed as Bev pulled him up, draping his arm over her shoulders. He wrapped his fingers around her shoulder and held on for dear life as she led him out of the room.

“I don’t fucking know.” Bev wailed back, laughing a bit through her sobs.

Richie focused on trusting where Bev was leading him. Her arm wrapped securely around his back, weaving him every which way. He heard a door click open, but he knew that they weren’t going outside, because he didn’t feel the freezing weather, they stepped into the room and by the way their footsteps and sniffles sounded Richie could tell they were in a bathroom. Bev kicked the door closed behind her and Richie allowed her to move him around the room, he heard the lid of the toilet smack down.

“Here sit, slowly.” She instructed, and he did just that.

He felt comfort with the sensation of sitting down instead of standing, blindly making himself familiar with surroundings.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” Bev whispered, and he heard the sounds of cabinets and cupboards opening and closing, rummaging around and things clattering to the floor.

Pounding on the door came seconds later.

“Bev it’s me, please open up.”

“Eddie.” Richie said, more-so _choked_ along with a sob.

He heard Bev fumble with the doorknob and what Richie knew to be Eddie burst into the room.

“Oh my God Richie, why the fuck would you do that.” Eddie was sobbing too; they were all a fucking disaster. Richie still sat with his eyes squeezed shut as Eddie pressed his hands into his cheeks.

Richie just cried instead of providing an answer to his question. He felt himself being tugged into Eddie’s embrace, warm and firm. Eddie slotted between his legs and holding him fiercely as Richie wrapped his arms around his middle, crying into the fabric of his shirt. They were there for a minute, crying together, Eddie rubbing circles into Richie’s back. When they both calmed down a bit Eddie shifted in his arms, crouching in front of him and holding the sides of his head.

“Richie open your eyes for me.” Eddie instructed.

Richie cried a little harder then… honestly _scared_ to open them. What if he opened them and he still couldn’t see, and he would never be able to fucking see again. The thought of never being able to see Eddie’s face again is what made him cry more.

He felt Eddie’s fingers at the back of his head, moving as if feeling for a bump or for blood.

“Richie come on, _please_.” Eddie begged.

Richie breathed deeply and worked himself up to it, squeezing them shut before finally opening them.

Eddie’s worried tear-streaked face was the first thing Richie saw then. He released a sigh of relief and blinked away the tears that were clouding his vision. He sobbed a bit more and reached his hands up to touch Eddie’s face.

“He didn’t hurt you.” Richie said, a tone of relief coming through his wobbly voice.

Next to him Bev sobbed, he looked over and saw that she was sitting on the lip of the tub with her hand on Richie’s thigh.

“No, but he got you enough for all of us.” Eddie said.

“Is everyone else okay?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, Ben and Mike held him back, they kicked him out.” Eddie said, crying. “Richie I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up.” Richie said, a hint of teasing peeking through his wrecked voice. He really didn’t want to hear that. None of this was Eddies fault, even remotely. He had no business taking the blame for any of it.

Eddie choked a bit of a sob and Richie pulled him into a hug. They cried into each other’s shoulders for a minute, Richie buried his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, comforted by his scent and warmth.

They held each other until they were merely catching their breath against each other’s skin. Richie didn’t want to let him go, or move and see exactly what his face looked like, because holding Eddie like this was the only thing he wanted in life. He could forget as best he could about the beating he just had, ignore how it hurt to breathe and the fact that a spot on his eyebrow burned where it pressed up against Eddie’s neck.

Eventually, Eddie did release his hold on him though, and when he did, Richie noticed just _how much_ blood was on Eddie’s shirt now. At his stomach where Richie cried into his shirt the first time, and at his shoulder where he cried the second. Red wet patches of blood, tears, and snot soaked the fabric.

Eddie _surprisingly_ didn’t seem to care though, or maybe he didn’t notice, he merely held Richie’s face by his chin and tipped it every which way, assessing his wounds with a pained expression. Pushing his hair up out of the way to better view his eyebrow. Richie looked right back at him, overjoyed that he had his vision because the thought of never being able to see this face again, terrified him to the core.

Bev stood up then, and pressed a kiss into Richie’s hair, she set his glasses down on the counter and headed for the door.

“I’m going to go look for more first aid stuff, there’s practically nothing in here.”

“Thanks Bev.” Eddie said, assigning his attention next, to Richie’s hand, bloodied and bruising at the knuckles.

Bev slipped out of the room.

Eddie held Richie’s hand with both of his own, rolling it around to get a good look at the knuckles.

“I don’t think it’s broken.” Eddie said, tears still trailing down his cheeks, but the wobbliness in his voice completely gone now.

Richie only nodded, agreeing with and trusting his conclusion.

“Here can you stand up?” Eddie asked taking a few steps back, because until then, Richie somehow didn’t notice the way Eddie was leaning on the toilet lid between his legs, unaware of how close they really were.

“Yeah…” Richie said, and he did, easily because his legs weren’t the problem and his brain was working fine.

“Okay, take off your shirt.” Eddie said.

Richie snorted a laugh, it was wet and wobbly because of his hysterics, Eddie laughed too.

“Seriously, come on, he was kicking the shit out of you.” Eddie said, with an added tone of worry.

Richie did what he was told, shrugging off the Hawaiian shirt he had draped over his dark grey tee shirt. He dropped the Hawaiian shirt down onto the lid of the toilet behind him and tugged his tee shirt off over his head by the back of the neck.

“Oh my God Rich!” Eddie said, all kinds of worried and exasperated.

Instead of turning around to look in the mirror, he looked down at himself, red welts the shape of the toe of a shoe were scattered around the left side of his stomach and chest. Eddie’s hand covered his mouth and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Oh, come on please don’t cry again.” Richie said weakly, he didn’t think he could handle another round of watching Eddie cry.

Eddie just looked at him with wide eyes and shook his head slowly. His brows knotted together, and his face went red as he choked back a sob. Richie’s heart broke watching him.

“Eddie…” Richie said, crying again as well.

“Richie, I am so, _fucking…_ sorry.” Eddie said slowly.

“Eds.” Eddie sobbed at the nickname. “It’s not your fault. Please don’t think it is.”

Eddie just sniffled and shook his head.

Bev came back then with the first aid stuff, closing the door behind her, her entering the scene added a buffer to the tension in the room.

“Bowers would probably be jealous right? He’s never fucked me up this bad.” Richie chuckled through his tears.

Eddie chuckled as well, it came out as more of a choked sob as his eyes continued to trail up and down Richie’s torso. Bev laughed as well.

“Here, put this on your eye.” Bev handed him a frozen bag of vegetables she took from the kitchen.

Richie did what he was told, and Eddie bent a bit to better examine Richie’s torso. His fingers ran along the outline of his ribs, applying a bit of pressure as he went.

“Tell me if anything hurts.” Eddie said, obviously trying to decide if any of Richie’s ribs were broken.

It was hard to focus on pain when Eddie was touching his shirtless form, even beaten and bruised, Eddie’s touch on a part of Richie that it didn’t frequent, was a searing sensation so strong in his heart that radiated through his whole body.

“It doesn’t hurt, but keep touching me.” Richie teased, trying to lighten the situation more, sick of crying and watching Eddie do the same.

“Shut up.” Eddie scoffed, and his fingertips lingered on Richie’s skin for a beat longer than necessary.

Bev was working on unpacking everything from the first aid kit that they would probably use. Eddie picked up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and held Richie’s hand over the sink. He gave no warning before pouring the substance over the cuts at his knuckles.

“Jesus how fucking hard did you punch him?” Bev asked shocked at the state of his hand.

“Pretty fucking hard.” Richie said, hint of a smile creeping onto his lips.

Bev high-fived him over Eddie’s head, who had nothing to say and seemingly no reaction to the statement.

“He deserved it.” Bev said.

“Yeah but _you_ fucking _didn’t._ ” Eddie said, a little pissed and still weary about the whole thing as he positioned a strip of gauze over Richie’s knuckles and secured it with medical tape.

“I mean I _was_ kind of asking for it.” Richie said laughing a bit, trying to lighten Eddie’s spirits and make him understand that it was in no way his fault.

“He could have killed you Richie! If Mike and Ben weren’t there, I don’t know what would have happened, he’s so much fucking bigger than you, what were you thinking!?”

“Bigger!? No way he’s got an eleven-inch dick.”

“Richie!” Eddie demanded.

“What!?”

“That was the most fucking terrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and you’re standing here making dick jokes!? I can’t fucking believe you.” Eddie rambled, his true form coming back, ready to pounce on whatever preposterous thing that Richie had to say. “And there’s no fucking _way_ your dick is that big.”

“You’ll believe it when you see it Eds.” Richie teased, Eddie blushed and scowled at him, muttering something under his breath that Richie couldn’t hear. “Look I’m sorry that happened, I just needed to fucking punch him.”

“You didn’t _need_ to do that… I could have yelled my way out of it.” Eddie soaked a wad of gauze to start wiping the blood from Richie’s face.

“Yeah but this way you didn’t have to. I just _hated_ the way he was talking to you Eds, that was fucking disgusting.”

“I know.” Eddie said with a sigh.

Richie sat on the seat of the toilet again so Eddie could more easily tend to his wounds. Richie leaned his head back so that the peroxide didn’t drip into his eyes, because he _loved_ being able to see and wasn’t prepared to risk going blind _again._

Bev excused herself, saying something about how Eddie had it under control and that she wanted to find Ben.

Eddie stood straddling his legs as he worked, the cramped bathroom couldn’t really accommodate for any other position, but Richie wasn’t complaining. The cut above his eyebrow quite literally _seared_ at the introduction of peroxide to the wound, Richie hissed in pain and his hand moved to grip the side of Eddie’s leg as a reflex, he squinted his eyes closed as well, which furrowed his brows and amplified the pain even more. When his eyes opened again he saw the blush that dusted Eddie’s cheeks, it was then when he realized that his hand was gripping the firm, but ever so soft thigh of Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie blushed too, but didn’t remove his hand, he knew Eddie enough to know that he would have snapped at him or pushed his hand away by now if the contact was too much or unwanted.

So, here they were, Richie focusing hard on pressure of his fingertips against Eddie’s thigh and Eddie focusing on tending to the wounds of his face. Physical touch was always something that came easily for them, Richie draping his arms over Eddie’s shoulders, playfully holding his hand, or even kissing his cheeks; but all of these things happened in the company of their friends, and was never _this_ intimate and _blushy._

Richie shifted his fingers a bit on his thigh as something to focus on instead of the way that his cheekbone burned with the peroxide now. He felt the way Eddie’s thigh flexed as he shifted his weight on his legs every once in a while to reach for something else. He acted as if Richie’s hand wasn’t there at all, and Richie was happy about it. Proof of his knowledge of the intended intimacy, it wasn’t one of their playful touches, this touch was far from playful. By the time Eddie was fastening band-aids to the wounds on his face, Richie’s thumb was motioning back and forth against the jean material.

“All done…” Eddie said, quietly, reaching for Richie’s glasses on the counter and returning them to their rightful spot on his face. He made no movement other than that, keeping his feet planted where they were.

Richie smirked at him for a second before allowing his hand to fall to his lap, the warmth of Eddie’s thigh dispersing and leaving his hand cold and empty. He would have _loved_ to have tugged Eddie to his lap by his belt loops, feeling the weight of him as he crashed their lips together, Richie would run his hands up and down Eddies sides, and Eddie may even burry his fingers into his hair. But he knew he couldn’t, because Eddie didn’t _want_ to do that with him.

The absence of Richie’s hand seemed to have been Eddie’s cue to step back then, giving Richie space to put his clothes back on. He tugged his shirt over his head gently, as to not disturb any of the injuries, and hesitated before shrugging his Hawaiian shirt back on, caught up with the state of _Eddie’s_ shirt. He held the crumpled shirt in his hand and offered it to Eddie darting his eyes from the state of Eddie’s shirt to his face.

“Don’t worry about it, you need all the layers you can get for our walk home.” Eddie said, declining.

“Oh, come _on_ , even I think your shirt is disgusting.”

Eddie ripped off his shirt as fast as humanly possible, and tossed it right into the trash next to the toilet. “I know, I was trying to ignore it until later…”

Richie handed him the shirt and was immediately caught up with the sight of Eddie shirtless in front of him, the way his arms and chest flexed and moved as he took the shirt from Richie and put it on. He shrugged it on and buttoned it, looking frankly adorable. The sight of Eddie in his clothes strummed at his heart and made his stomach flutter.

“Hey thanks, for all this…” Richie said, using his hand to reference the various injuries on his body now securely tended to by the gentle hands of Eddie Kaspbrak.

“No problem…” Eddie said softly. “Now let’s fucking _go home_.”

“You can say that again Spaghetti-Man.” Eddie opened the door and Richie followed him out.

Upon exiting the bathroom, they were met with the faces of Mike and Bill.

“Where’s everyone else?” Richie asked, eager to draw the attention away from the state of his injuries and suppress the twinge of worry in his brain about the location of his missing friends.

“Ben is outside, he went to get the car. Stan and Bev went with him and they stayed home I guess.” Mike answered.

“Always a sweetheart that Benny…” Richie said adoringly and looked to Eddie to catch his nod of agreement.

The party had understandably died down, maybe twenty or thirty people were left in the house, by the time they got into Ben’s car to leave. The drive home was _maybe_ a minute, but the car was warm, and Ben was a sweetheart.

When they were all inside, Eddie locked and latched the door closed, Richie was upset to think that Eddie was now _afraid_ of Connor.

“Hey Richie, be careful when you shower, and be careful with your head, if there are any tender spots let me know.” Eddie said.

“Will do Dr. K.” Richie agreed and went upstairs.

His shower was careful and quick, he tried his best to wash his face without disturbing the bandages and scrub his chest without pushing too hard on any of the bruises there. When he washed his hair, he did what Eddie said, carefully running his fingers around his scalp feeling for any bumps or bruises, luckily, he didn’t find anything accept a tender spot at the back of his head, but it wasn’t too bad. When he was done, he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist, brushed his teeth, then went to his room, dressing in boxers and a tee shirt before sitting down on his bed. He noted the sound of the shower turning back on and fiddled with the bandage over his knuckles, it was soggy and kind of falling off from his shower, he slipped it off the rest of the way and tossed it into the trash.

He sat looking at his hand, he must have got him in the teeth or the eyebrow because his hand was _fucked_. To be that bruised and cut from _one punch_ had to have made it a good punch. Richie wished Bill had snapped a picture of the moment he dove into the punch, eager to see what Connors face looked like as Richie’s fist came rushing towards it.

He then decided against the idea of Bill getting a picture of the moment, because he didn’t want to tarnish the collection of photos he had already. He opened his bedside drawer then, to admire his collection. Most of them had been photos from Christmas, Eddie being all sorts of adorable with his cheerful face and bed head, showing off his new Christmas presents.

Richie found himself smiling at the photos for a minute, thumbing through them. Photos of just Eddie, him and Eddie, and different combinations of their friends. His favorites were at the top of the pile, him and Eddie on Christmas of course, as well as a shot from them in middle school, Richie stealing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek and Eddie in mid scowl of disgust, the photo was taken during one of their sleepovers in Bills basement, assumedly soon after Bill was gifted the camera.

He admired the photos for a good while before returning them to his drawer and laying back against his pillows, his clouded mind and exhausted demeanor didn’t even register the shower turning off a few minutes ago. The house was quiet, and Richie took a few deep breaths, his lamp was still on and his room was lit in a warm comforting glow.

There was a knock on his door and a click of it opening.

“What’s the point of always knocking if you just open it anyway?” Richie said to the ceiling, his tone was amused and sarcastic.

“Can… I sleep with you tonight?” Eddie completely ignored his question, obviously more focused on asking his own, and Richie couldn’t blame him, his question was _far better_ than his.

Richie sat up, a little taken aback by the question and entirely love struck. Eddie stood in his door-frame, in adorable blue shorts and Richie’s Hawaiian shirt from earlier, his hair was damp, and his cheeks were flushed.

“Yeah… yes, of course you can.” Richie stammered.

Eddie came in and shut the door behind him, walking over and crawling into bed. He slotted himself between Richie and the wall. Richie turned to his side, to flick off the lamp and put his glasses on the table. He stayed on his side and settled into bed, he was as stiff as a board, feeling the heat of Eddie’s body behind him was overwhelming. The fact that Eddie had put his shirt back on after his shower was overwhelming in itself, but for him to come in here and crawl into bed _wearing said shirt_ and looking adorable as ever had Richie’s mind in a freeze frame. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening right now and therefore was at a loss for words, and thoughts, and _everything._

“Richie…” Eddie said, quietly, but not quite a whisper.

“Yeah?” Richie said just as soft.

He felt Eddie turn so they were facing the same direction, if he were to shift a few inches they’d be spooning.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.”

Richie felt the wind rush out of his lungs, whether it was a response to the sweetness of Eddie’s soft voice then, or out of annoyance that Eddie was apologizing _yet again_ for something he had no business apologizing for, Richie would never know.

“Please stop apologizing Eds, it wasn’t your fault.” Richie sighed.

Eddie sighed too. “Okay…” Was all he said, though it sounded as if he wasn’t about to listen to Richie.

Richie took a few deep breaths and tried to relax his body; he positioned his hand beneath his head on his pillow to support it in such a way that kept his eyebrow from pressing into it. The uncomfortable numbing pain of the cut there shooting through his face.

Richie wiggled around and nuzzled his head for a bit, getting himself comfortable, until he felt it, Eddie’s hand on his back, pressed so his palm was flat against it. Richie’s heart rate automatically increased, nerves and anticipation getting the best of him. Eddie’s hand shifted then, sliding over to his side, just beneath his ribs and pausing there for a minute again. Richie felt a ball at his throat, overwhelmed with the affection and mere tenderness of it all.

Thoughts raced through his mind of them waking up tangled into each other at sleepovers, always wishing he had been awake to see how it came to that. He remembered Christmas, when they woke up on the couch together at some point in the night, Eddie positioned similarly to how he was now. Eddie’s fingers were gentle and firm at his side, Richie desperately wanted to scoot back, encourage Eddie to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight, but he knew that was too forward and Eddie didn’t like him like that.

They were vulnerable right now, both of them emotionally and mentally exhausted from what happened tonight, and Richie figured that Eddie just needed someone to be there with him. Richie was happy to be that person for him.

Richie tried his best to swallow the ball in his throat, he didn’t want to cry now, he knew that he would make everything weird and complicated with tears. But the way Eddie touched him so tenderly just _got_ to him. He nuzzled his cheek into his own hand, trying to distract himself from focusing too hard on Eddie’s touch and therefore diminishing the need to cry.

Eddie’s hand shifted again though, this time down towards Richie’s chest, Eddie’s other arm had pushed itself in between Richie’s arm pit and the bed, slotting into the space there. His arms wrapped around Richie and Eddie pressed his face and chest against Richie’s back. Richie squeezed his eyes closed and bit the inside of his cheek, tears crept through his eyes then, wetting the pillow beneath his face.

Being held securely in Eddie’s arms was Richie’s favorite place in the entire world. He was sure that Eddie heard him sniffle, but he didn’t say anything about it, he just nuzzled his cheek against Richie’s spine.

Eddie was warm, comforting, and sweet, everything that Richie’s heart was yearning for. He lay enjoying the moment, absorbing every ounce of tenderness and care that Eddie was providing. He felt his tears subside after a minute, his body picking up on the fact that he was supposed to be enjoying the moment instead of blubbering like an idiot.

“Hey Eds?” Richie whispered, afraid of waking Eddie if he had fallen asleep, though he knew he was in fact not asleep, for how his arms were currently securely wrapped around him.

“Hm?” Eddie hummed against his back.

“What’s an occipital lobe?” Richie smirked along to his question, finding the whole thing a little funny now. Looking back on it, if he was able to _see_ Eddie scream ‘ _you fucking fucked his occipital lobe you fucking asshole!’_ he would have laughed right then and there.

Eddie must have sensed his amusement, because he chuckled into the fabric of his shirt. “It’s a part of your brain…” Eddie explained and shifted behind Richie, which Richie was sad about, until he felt Eddie’s nose at the back of his head. “ _Its right here._ ” Eddie whispered against his hair.

Richie felt his soul ascend; chills ran like water across his skin. Richie _shivered_ and curled deeper into Eddie’s hold, pressing his back against his chest. Eddie hugged him tighter and the moment was perfect.

When Eddie eventually did succumb to sleep, his arm beneath Richie’s body fell flat in front of him, palm to the ceiling and beautifully limp, empty and in Richie’s mind _waiting_. He crept his own hand up his wrist and into the grasp of Eddie’s, lacing their fingers together and feeling Eddie give him a gentle squeeze in his sleepy state. Richie smiled to himself and finally focused on trying to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you'd like to be added to a tag-list on tumblr for when I post fresh content!!! I'd simply add your URL to the bottom of each of my posts on there about my uploads. Comment your tumblr URL and I'll add you in! 
> 
> Also, I have a sequel planned for this fic so stay tuned for that when I'm finished with this one! Hint: HURT/comfort


	7. Happy Birthday Sonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie joins Eddie on his trip back to Derry to celebrate Sonia's birthday, the meek affair turned into something much more once they decided to hightail it the fuck out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note! I want to make it clear that Eddie has real asthma for the sake of this story, or you could also look at it as he hasn't figured out that his asthma wasn't real yet. It's completely up to you as the reader.

Sonia Kaspbrak hasn’t changed a bit. She was still as strict and intrusive as ever. Over the course of dinner, she asked Eddie about a different aspect of his health probably twenty times, Richie kept a count going at first in his head, but he eventually lost it.

Eddie was on edge the entire time, and Richie could tell, the way his shoulders tensed and how firmly he held his fork and knife were dead giveaways. Richie had to suppress the urge to place a comforting hand on his thigh or back, wishing he could alleviate some of his tension. Wishing they could touch like that and it would be normal. He knew that if he put a hand on Eddie like that now, there’s a chance he’s slink away and think bad of him, because Eddie didn’t like him like that.

The house was the same, well… all except for Eddie’s room, which had seemed to have reverted back to the way it was decorated when they were twelve. His model cars were back out on display and even the bedspread went back to the light blue quilt and train pillows. Richie was kind of grossed out by the whole thing, but it was nothing compared to how Eddie reacted. He was entirely _repulsed_ by it, having taken a quick look in the room and decided that they weren’t staying the night, shutting the door with such quick force that it rattled a few photos hanging in the hall.

Which brought them to now, sitting in Richie’s car after sunset, driving home in a rainstorm. Sonia had put on quite the fit when they left, shrieking about hydroplaning and visibility, but Eddie threw a fit right back. He lied about an upcoming exam he had to study for, and promised to call her when they got home.

Richie was happy that he came with Eddie, when Eddie had asked if he could join him in going home for his mother’s birthday he didn’t even have to think about it before saying yes. He was happy to be there as moral support, he knew more than anyone how much of a burden Sonia has on Eddie, the constant guilt tripping about moving away for school, the prodding and worrying about his medical health. Though Eddie didn’t really have much of a choice in going by himself because of the fact he still didn’t have his own car, Richie was happy to come none the less.

Nothing in terms of advancing with Eddie has happened since that night about a month and a half ago, that fateful January night that was so undeniably perfect and wonderful, drifting to sleep in the arms of the man he loved so much, who cared for him so tenderly, addressing the wounds that were pink scars on his face and knuckles now. Richie remembered waking up that morning, and smiling at the feeling of Eddie’s soft breath on his back and the rise and fall of his chest against him. Richie wished to himself that every morning could be like that, but alas, the next night Eddie resided to his own room, and every night since, Richie had slept alone. His hand pressed against the wall as if Eddie was doing the same on the other side, he felt corny about it, but it helped him feel closer to him somehow.

Eddie had been in kind of a stand-still in his dating life, he hasn’t talked to anyone since Connor. Richie was worried that he had been too distraught over the whole _Connor_ thing to consider dating again. Though most of Richie was selfishly elated that Eddie hasn’t seen anyone, another _smaller_ part of him felt bad. Eddie deserved to have someone to love him, he deserved to have someone to make him feel good, even if it wasn’t Richie. It had taken him a while to actually come around to those feelings, enjoying the return of Richie and Eddie, the dynamic duo who were always together, running errands, studying, watching movies, and playing games, but when he started to notice the somber look on his face when Ben and Bev would show affection it really got to him.

Eddie deserved to have someone to kiss, someone sweet that would treat him right. Richie was done being bitter about the whole thing, deciding finally that Eddie really deserved love no matter what. He was just unfortunately not able to be the one to give it to him.

A comforting thought about them meeting in another life and proceeding as a _couple_ was in the back of his mind in times like these. Even if he wouldn’t be able to experience it, he knew that it was possible, their souls had just been so connected and worked so well together, it was inevitable. He mourned the loss of this life not being one where he could spend forever romantically with Eddie, but was comforted by the thought that in another, he could. For now, however, Richie decided that Eddie had to get back out there, and focus on finding himself someone to hug and kiss him, to tell him he’s beautiful without the response being laughter.

They had been driving for about an hour now, and they had about a half an hour left to go, Richie’s car was a piece of actual shit, but it was doing the job. Eddie sat behind the wheel, squinting through the rain, and Richie sat next to him, mind racing with thoughts that he felt that an urge to share.

“Hey, Eddie.” Richie said.

“What?” Eddie asked, there was still an edge to his voice that had been there since they left his mom’s house.

“I’ve just been thinking… and well wondering… why haven’t you seen anyone since you ended things with Connor?” Richie asked.

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Eddie asked, evidently aggravated.

“I mean, is there _a lot_ to talk about?”

“Well, of course there is!” Eddie was quite literally on edge now. He leaned forward in his seat to check both ways at an intersection before crossing through, they passed a creepy looking phone booth, and continued along the eerie street, lit only by auburn streetlights.

“Well I feel like now is as good a time as any!” Richie said, he felt he had a point, they had a good amount of time left to kill, and up until now they haven’t said much of anything.

As if on cue, the car started sputtering, jerking and completely giving up on the drive. Quite literally tapping out as it slowed, inching towards an inevitable halt.

“Fucking damnit!” Eddie screamed.

Richie felt bad now, his car was probably the most untrustworthy bitch around, constantly lying about how much gas it had and shit like tire pressure. This was one of those times.

Eddie pulled to the side of the road as the car officially ran out of gas.

“I thought we had enough!” Eddie yelled as he referenced the gas meter on the dash.

“I did too! We all know she lies!” Richie added a comedic flair to his voice, trying to add some light to the situation.

Eddie yelled a string of curses as he pounded the wheel of the car, hitting the horn a few times. Then, without saying anything he yanked the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car, into the pouring rain, onto the dark road lit only by a few streetlights every couple hundred feet.

“Wait what the fuck!?” Richie said to himself as he scrambled to get out of the car as well. Was Eddie about to fucking _walk home!?_ Why didn’t he even ask if there was an umbrella in the car? There wasn’t… because it was Richie’s car and he didn’t really consider things like having an umbrella in there… but still, Eddie was being weird and Richie was worried.

He searched around a bit and then saw Eddie stomping down the road in the direction they came from. He jogged to catch up with him, Eddie was completely soaked already, his shirt clung to his back and his hair stuck to the back of his neck and forehead.

“Eddie what is this, where are you going!?” Richie asked, grabbing his elbow to get him to slow down, he didn’t, he merely tugged his arm out of Richie’s grasp and kept stomping at the pace he had been.

“I saw a fucking phone booth. I’m going to call home and get someone to bring us some fucking gas.” Eddie growled, not looking at Richie, like he was mad at him.

Richie didn’t have to adjust his normal walking speed much to keep up with Eddie as he walked alongside him on the side of the road. He couldn’t see much because his glasses collected water droplets and his hair kept getting in his eyes. He felt like he was showering with all of his clothes on, the rain was so heavy.

“I’m sorry man.” Richie said after a minute.

“What the fuck are you sorry about!?” Eddie yelled, fast as hell and barely audible.

“Just, that my car is a piece of shit! But also, that’s a little on you, you should have asked someone else to go with you!” Richie yelled.

“Why _the fuck_ would I have asked someone else!?” Eddie yelled back, extending his arms and shaking his head.

“I don’t know, because then you would have had a _reliable vehicle_ and wouldn’t be walking through the rain at night right now!”

Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “You’re such a fucking blind dumb ass you know that right!?”

Richie was hurt by his words. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Richie shot back, a little flair of anger to his voice now.

“I wish you could fucking figure that out!” Eddie’s voice was wobbly now, Richie couldn’t tell if he was just that fucking _pissed_ or if he was crying.

“Are you _crying!?”_

“NO!” But it was obvious that he was, Richie backed off a bit, tried to soften his attitude and words.

Eddie crossed his arms tightly as he walked.

“What are you so upset about!?” Richie asked, yelling just enough to be audible over the rain, no longer being harsh with his words.

“There’s _a lot_ to be fucking upset about Richie!” Eddie snapped back.

They were nearing the phone booth now, so Richie decided to hold back and let Eddie go ahead and make the call. He lingered outside of the tiny glass enclosure and craved a cigarette. He figured that Eddie was upset about Connor, shocked that he was _still_ hung up on him and frustrated over the fact that he was.

Eddie stood in the phone booth with his back to him, Richie could tell by his movements that he was wiping tears from his face. Richie felt that the tears were his fault and was frustrated that Eddie was mad at him for whatever reason.

Eddie hung up the phone and slid through the door of the phone booth, whipping his hand that had been holding it on his pants.

“Ben has an empty gas jug, him and Bev are going to fill it up and come to get us, should be a half an hour.” Eddie grumbled as he walked past.

“Please don’t be mad at me… listen, I get it you’re still stuck up on Connor—”

“I am _NOT_ still stuck up on Connor!” Eddie shrieked.

He walked much faster than he had on the way there.

“Fuck, then what is it then!? This situation is resolved, I’m sorry about my dumb ass car, but we can only be mad about it for so long!” As Richie said the words, he realized he was being a bit harsh, but he was getting frustrated that Eddie wouldn’t just _talk_ to him.

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just pushed his arms tighter together and focused on stomping towards the car.

“Just _talk_ to me! Please! Why are you so upset!?” Richie begged.

Eddie choked out a sob and trudged on, acting as if he didn’t hear Richie’s plea.

The car was close now, but Richie was eager to get to the bottom of it, Eddie Kaspbrak didn’t cry for nothing, and he told Richie everything, talking was something that came easy to them, as long as it avoided the secret that Richie has kept for years.

Richie stopped walking, dramatically stomping his feet as he did so, effectively catching Eddie’s attention.

“Eddie just tell me what’s wrong please! I hate that you’re crying right now and not fucking talking to me!”

Eddie stood glaring at him, the car behind him in the near distance, Richie knew they could have this same conversation in there, but Eddie was acknowledging him now, and he wasn’t about to do anything to change that.

“Please just talk to me, is it something I did!? Because if it—”

“I’m in love with you.”

Every thought of what to say next left Richie’s mind, his hands and mouth hung dumbly as if frozen in time. His jaw pulsed with every sharp intake of breath riddled with disbelief and the consideration of what he could say next. His eyebrows furrowed and tried to quite literally create a blockade in front of his brain, accepting no possibility of what Eddie just said being true, going _so long_ convincing itself that it wasn’t.

“No, you’re fucking not.” Richie said, shock and disbelief degrading the emphasis of his voice.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Eddie yelled, usual tone of his voice carrying through now.

“You can’t love me Eds, I’m not some fucking jock or some hot ass muscly guy that can lift you with one arm. I can barely even say the word bisexual without flinching, you don’t fucking love me.” It felt weird reciting everything he repeated in his head for so long without flinching.

“Well I fucking do.” Eddie said.

“Why.” Richie said, because he was honestly confused, this turn of events seemed to be so foreign and unexpected that he would never imagine Eddie to love _anything_ about him.

Eddie scoffed through a laugh and shook his head, looking off somewhere in the distance.

“ _Why._ ” Richie pleaded.

“Because you fucking care about me, and you always make me feel better about stupid shit.” Eddie paused to take a hitching breath. His lip quivered as his focus sharpened on whatever he was staring at in the distance. “You’re the smartest person I know, and you act like it’s nothing. You know just what to say to make me laugh.”

Richie’s features softened, maybe it _was_ true… maybe Eddie really did love him…

“You give the best hugs in the whole world, and your smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Eddie took another hitching breath, a frustrated sob wracked through his body. “Your face is so perfect that-… that I see it when I close my eyes to go to sleep at night.” Eddie rubbed at his eyes, as if wiping away tears, which was pointless because his face was soaked with rain.

“Every time you _fucking touch me_ my knees go weak and I feel like I’m going to fall over. And everything you do makes me hard!” Eddie screamed the last part, as if it made him mad.

Richie didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t prepared for this, his mind was going a mile a minute, but at the same time, not fast enough, he couldn’t hold onto a thought long enough for it to come of anything. He just stood there in the rain, dumbly staring at the man he loved who just confessed that _he_ loves him before Richie had the balls to do it himself.

Richie felt his body go wobbly and his knees get weak, he knew that if his body wasn’t covered in freezing rain, his palms would be sweaty as well. Nerves racked through his body because he was standing there like an idiot, not knowing what to do or say.

“Are you going to fucking say something!?”

Richie didn’t know what to do until suddenly, he did, he surged forward and rushed until he was right in front of Eddie, hands at the sides of his head, gazing into his glossy brown eyes. Eddie’s face softened into something less worrisome and his hands gripped the front of Richie’s shirt. Richie’s eyes flickered between Eddie’s eyes and his mouth, still held in its scowl, though his face was soft now.

“You really do love me?”

Eddie nodded his head, eyes searching through Richie’s, taken aback with the sudden surge of confidence and touch.

“This isn’t just some joke, this is real, all the stuff you said is real.” Richie needed to be sure, it was all just… too good to be true.

Eddie nodded again, and his eyes said everything they had to say as Richie leaned down and pressed his lips against the lips he dreamed of tasting for years.

At first they didn’t do much but that, just pressing the soft pads of their lips against one another, Richie taking his time to map the sensation of Eddie’s soft, wet lips against his own as he cupped the sides of his face. Eddie’s trembling fingers on his shirt relaxed into something less knuckled and stiff.

Eddie _sobbed_ into the kiss and Richie swiped his thumbs across the tops of his cheekbones, gently swiping away the tears that were a warm contrast to the cold rain he felt on the rest of his face. Another sob tore through Eddies body as he wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck, deepening the kiss as he did so, parting his mouth. The feeling was exhilarating, the fact that their lips were wet and cold only brought attention to the sensation of their tongues, warm and slick.

Richie shifted his hold on Eddie, eager to press his hands into his back and pull him closer, holding their bodies firmly flushed as Eddie’s fingers pushed into his hair. He allowed his hands to map the form of Eddie’s back and sides, feeling the way he flexed and softened when he would pull Richie closer or shift the angle of his head.

Overwhelmed was an understatement, Richie was sure that his brain had been so fucking _overwhelmed_ that his soul has ascended, and was apart from his body so he could focus entirely on the kiss, portray everything to Eddie that he hadn’t _yet_ said. He was pretty sure his soul was somewhere off to the side of the scene, relaying vague thoughts of ‘ _is this really fucking happening?’_ and _‘this has to be a fucking dream’_ to his brain.

Richie’s heart writhed with the way Eddie was tugging him closer and pulling their bodies together every so often. Soft puffs of air and grunts elicited from Eddie’s throat every so often and Richie was sure the moment couldn’t have been more erotic.

As they kissed, the words Eddie had confessed repeated in his head, Eddie thought he was _beautiful…_ with his giant glasses, insane wardrobe, unkept hair, and dorky expression Richie never thought that someone could ever consider him _beautiful._ But here was Eddie fucking Kaspbrak, saying he had a pretty smile and –

“And… Richie… you’re the funniest person I know…” Eddie said between kisses, his voice so deep and seductive, Richie felt his heart flutter and his stomach pool.

Richie fucking _groaned._

Eddie laughed into the kiss, his beautiful wholehearted chuckle that filled Richie’s life with light. Richie pulled back for a minute to compose himself and catch his breath, their foreheads connected, and he brought one of his hands up to cup Eddie’s cheek.

“Let’s fucking get in the car.” Richie said, his voice much deeper and wreaked than he would have liked.

Eddie leaned and pressed his lips to the side of his panting mouth, Richie grabbed his hand and lead the way to the car, Eddie unlocked it when they were closer, and Richie lead them both to the passenger’s side door. He wretched the door open and sat on the seat, tugging Eddie’s hand so he got the memo to straddle his lap. As Eddie settled on top of him, he closed the door.

The weight of Eddie on top of him was fucking _marvelous_ , Richie sat for a minute, running his hands up and down his chest, admiring the _look_ of Eddie perched on his lap. He then tugged him forward by the fabric of his shirt, colliding their lips again, he felt sore at the spot of his bottom lip that was now scarred, but he didn’t care. Feeling Eddie’s nails drag at the nape of his neck and scalp elicited a moan, and Eddie fucking _shuddered_ in response.

“I’ve… been in love with you since we were fourteen.” Richie panted between kisses against his mouth. Feeling the need to even the playing field.

“You should have told me then asshole…” Eddie said before diving back into the kiss. Richie laughed, so Eddie did too.

Richie then let his hands dip beneath Eddie’s shirt, the fabric damp and heavy, leaving Eddie’s skin cold and goose-bumped. His thumb ran along the trail of hair beginning at the waist of his pants as he tugged his shirt up. Eddie moaned and squeezed his legs tighter around Richie’s thighs. One of his hands then wrapped securely around Eddie’ hip as the other found the swell of one of his pecks, tweaking his thumb against the firm knob of his nipple. 

“ _Fuck…_ ” Eddie’s voice puffed, and he pulled a hand away from the back of Richie’s neck to adjust his pants at his crotch.

Richie chuckled. “You like it when I play with your tits Eds?”

Eddie laughed too. “Shut up asshat.”

Richie smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, shifting his other hand to give Eddie’s other nipple some much deserved attention. Richie trailed his mouth along his cheek and jaw, Eddie panting and tipping his head to accommodate. Soft pecks and firm licks were the extent of what he allowed his mouth to do.

Eddie’s breaths grew heavier and Richie picked up on the familiar _wheeze_ that he’s heard so many times before. Before he could draw back from what he was doing and make sure he was okay, Eddie was planting a firm hand to his shoulder and sitting up on his knees to reach into the back seat, unzipping the front pocket of his red canvas bookbag and fishing his inhaler out of it. He shook it a few times as he settled back into his seat on Richie’s lap, and puffed it down his throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” Richie growled.

Eddie tossed his inhaler to the driver’s seat and gripped Richie’s shoulders, shifting himself higher up on Richie’s lap, their crotches in closer proximity now. Eddie buried his face into Richie’s neck and pressed a sweet kiss there, trailing up until he was closer to his ear.

“I want you to fucking bite me Richie.”

Richie’s head bounced against the headrest of the seat; _this just keeps getting better._

“You don’t have to tell me twice Wheezy…” Richie groaned as his hands returned to tweaking at Eddie’s nipples, eliciting a gasp and a clench of Eddie’s legs around his thighs.

Richie’s face slotted back into Eddie’s neck, kissing him sweetly at first, tender kisses across his jugular as he focused on the work he was doing on Eddie’s chest. He deepened a kiss into something more when he found a spot he felt suitable, running his teeth across the thin skin of his neck, sucking it into his mouth and fiddling with it between his teeth and tongue. Eddie groaned and ground down into him, the sudden connection and attention to the throbbing sensation in his pants caused his legs to spasm and his arms to twitch.

Eddie laughed at that, and Richie felt his throat shift along to it beneath his lips. The whole thing was so fucking _hot_ … Eddie on top of him, hands exploring his scalp, neck and shoulders, panting and moaning all for _him._ If Richie thought about it too much he would blow his load right here and now, in his pants like a horny teenager, but maybe that’s what it was supposed to be like with Eddie. Such an overwhelming force of love, arousal, and anticipation all coming to this moment.

He felt satisfied with the amount of attention he had given to the spot on Eddie’s neck, he pulled away and blew a cool stream of air across the skin, before leaning to nip at the skin of his jaw. Richie felt he could do this forever, experiencing Eddie like this was his new favorite thing to do.

A knock at the window of the driver’s side door caused them both to jump, then laugh to see it was Bev and Ben, faces stuck somewhere between laughter and shock. Richie flipped them off and tugged Eddie down by the inside of his shirt to press their lips together once more.

“How the fuck did we not see them?” Eddie said laughing as he pulled away from Richie.

“I don’t fucking know.”

Bev ran around to their side of the car. “I’m so _fucking proud_ of you guys!” She screamed and threw herself into a hug over each of their shoulders.

Richie leaned forward awkwardly, to accommodate the softening situation in his pants.

Ben came around to their side of the car as well, carrying the big red jug of gas, he gave Richie a high-five as Bev was hugging Eddie. Richie chuckled, because that’s _just_ what Ben would do.

So, here they were, bruised lips and all, standing on either side of Bev in the pouring rain watching Ben pour gas into the car, making light conversation about what they had for dinner and how Stan organized the silverware drawer differently. Eddie and Richie exchanged glances and Bev and Ben acted like everything was normal, as if nothing was changed, and Richie felt _good_ about that…

He had always expected them to be awkward and stiff around him if he were to have ever advanced with Eddie in this way, but they weren’t. They were charming, and normal and very much their saving grace in the night, with their gift of gas to get them the rest of the way home.

“Well, I guess we’ll leave you guys to it… see you at home!” Bev said when Ben finished filling the car, she kissed each of their cheeks as Ben waved them off.

They got back into the car then, this time Eddie _so far away_ in the driver’s seat. Eddie started the car with a sigh of relief, happy that the car was running, and they could officially go home, Richie shared the feeling.

“That was… surprisingly normal.” Richie commented.

“What, us making out or Ben and Bev?”

“Both I guess… but I was talking about Ben and Bev, in my head I always kind of figured there’d be a shift in everyone’s dynamic.” Richie clarified.

“I think that’s so wrong, why would everyone be different around us now?” Eddie asked, a hint of playful annoyance in his tone as he drove onto the road.

“I don’t know, just because, like…” Richie tried to explain himself then realized that his thought process was all wrong. “You know, you never really realize how stupid a thought is until you say it out loud.”

“Yeah that thought was pretty stupid.” Eddie chuckled; Richie laughed too.

The comforting bob of headlights behind them known to be Bev and Ben added an aspect of security to his heart. He was happy that things were normal, understanding now that he always thought everyone would be weird about it, until of course they all had figured out Richie was in love with Eddie, and showed him their support by encouraging him to make a move in their own ways. In the end though, it was never Richie who made the move, it was Eddie, because Eddie is the bravest person that Richie knows, and he loves him for that.

They drove for a little while longer, hopping onto a highway that was to take them right into town.

“I miss you…” Richie said, stroking his thighs with his hands, where Eddie was perched minutes ago, missing his weight and his heated embrace.

Eddie glanced and did a double take before smirking into a chuckled sigh. “We’ll be home in like, twenty minutes, can you calm down.”

“No, I can’t _calm down_ , I just made out with the hottest guy ever how the fuck do you expect me to _calm down!_ ” Richie laughed along to his words, loud and overreactive.

“You think I’m hot?” Eddie asked

“Of course I fucking do… you’re like a sexy little—”

_“Sexy!?”_

_“Yes sexy!”_

They fell into a fit of laughter, giddy from the night, they found the whole interaction hilarious.

“Fucking hell your laugh just _does it_ for me…” Richie said, reclining the seat and admiring Eddie’s profile, of which was raised eyebrows and parted mouth.

“My laugh?” Eddie asked.

“Yes, your laugh… and your giggle, and your chuckle, and your everything…” Richie said, in a sort of dreamlike state, gazing across the car at the man he loved, who he could say these things to now.

Eddie’s expression was frozen on something soft and sweet, so Richie decided to keep going.

“And I love the little crease you get between your brows when you’re angry, and your bed head, and your _non-bedhead_. I love how when you walk with your bookbag, you hold both of the straps. I love when you look at me when you’re tired, and your expression is all soft and sweet, I’ve always wanted to kiss you when you looked like that…” Richie just said whatever came to his mind because he fucking _could._ The endless list of things he adored about Eddie, finally seeing the light of day outside of his jumbled mind.

Eddie was smiling softly at the road, listening to everything that Richie said.

“I love that you keep me on track with schoolwork, even though you really don’t have to… I love when you wear those short shorts that show off your _perfect fucking legs…_ ” The last part sounded different compared to the rest, sounded deeper, richer with lust.

Eddie gave him a look, deadpanned, clenched jaw, eyes hooded, a look that sent chills down Richie’s spine and made him want to fucking squirm in his seat he was so amped up with anticipation.

“You have to stop… we can’t pull over.” Eddie said, all serious with a hint of a beg.

Richie put a hand over his mouth, afraid that if he didn’t he would just keep _listing,_ and it would get dirtier and dirtier because Eddie was the most attractive being on the planet and Richie couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted to bite and kiss his inner thighs and squeeze the perfect swell of his ass as he straddled him in only their underwear.

For pulling over to have been an option considered even _briefly_ in Eddie’s mind was the hottest thing in the world. Pulling over, to hop back on _his_ lap and pick up where they left off could only have been a scenario out of one of Richie’s deepest darkest fantasies. He pinched himself to check if he was dreaming.

Richie rolled as best he could away from Eddie, and tried his best to focus on the dark, wet scenery outside. He had to get his mind out of the gutter before the situation in his pants got any worse. He felt silly about being _so fucking aroused_ that he had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite at the palm of his hand covering his mouth to bring himself back down to earth.

“Stop fucking _squirming_ like that.” Eddie’s voice sounded like a plea.

Richie was surprised at first, then he remembered.

“Sorry, I forgot that everything I do gets you hard.” Richie teased.

Eddie didn’t reply, he merely pushed harder on the accelerator and sped the rest of the way down the highway. Ben and Bev lagged behind in the rear-view mirror, but they eventually caught up on the exit. The rest of the drive only took about five minutes, weaving through the roads that have grown so familiar in this past year and a half. When they finally pulled into the driveway, they quickly grabbed their intended night bags from the back seat and practically _ran_ inside, barreling through the front door, kicking off their muddy shoes and running up the stairs.

“Goodnight guys!” Bev yelled up the stairs, but neither of them had the mind to reply.

When they were finally upstairs, Eddie lead the way to Richie’s room, throwing his bag into his own room as they passed the door in the hallway, barreling into Richie’s room right next to it. Richie tossed his own bag to the floor and turned to Eddie who had just closed the door. Richie didn’t think twice before going over to him and cupping the sides of his face again, pressing him up against the door and kissing him with all of the pent up feelings and arousal from the car ride home.

“Don’t you like… want to shower… before? In my head… that’s always how it goes.” Richie asked, between kisses.

“Normally.” Eddie said nodding. “But it’s too late for that… I need you to fuck me right now before I fucking die.”

“ _Fuck…_ ” Richie whined, never in his life did he think he’d ever hear Eddie talking _so filthy…_

The hypochondriac germaphobe he grew up with, talking so dirty, voiding his routine of a shower before sex, to get _dicked down_ by none other than _Richie fucking Tozier._

Eddie’s arms were coiled around Richie’s neck, desperately clinging to him like that to accommodate for their height difference. Richie knew what he needed to do and knew that he could fucking do it, so he did. His body dipped and his hands fell to the back of Eddie’s thighs, he seemed to have gotten the memo because he jumped a bit and Richie pulled him up and lent against the door. Picking Eddie up like this was far hotter than Richie could have ever expected, the squeeze of his legs on either side of his waist and the firm hold that Eddie had on his shoulders was everything he needed right now. He supported Eddie with a combined lean against the door and a firm hold of the backs of his thighs, he allowed his hands to shift a bit higher as Eddie deepened the kiss, dying to feel what his ass felt like in his hands.

He was taken aback by a firm cylindrical object in one of his back pockets, he knew immediately what it was, but didn’t expect it to be there. He fished the inhaler from his pocket.

“Jeez Eds, do you always need a hit mid-fuck?” Richie teased.

Eddie tipped his head to kiss along Richie’s jawline. “No… first time was in the car…”

“My pants are going to fucking rip, I’m so fucking hard right now.” Richie held the inhaler in his mouth as he held Eddie securely with both hands, walking them over to the bed.

He lay Eddie down on it and tossed the inhaler off to the side, somewhere in reach in case of emergency. He then crowded above him, hovering, running his fingers through his damp hair and ignoring how bruised his lips were as he kissed Eddie with as much passion and heat as he could muster. He felt Eddie’s hands tug his shirt out of his pants, a Hawaiian button up, and started to undo the buttons, stopping halfway through to run his hands across Richie’s bare skin.

“You’re not wearing an undershirt…” Eddie said.

“And?”

“You’re going to catch a cold, it’s still cold outside you know…”

“Eds, we were just outside in the rain for forty minutes.” Richie teased, and kissed along his cheek, working his way down to the spot on his neck, nosing at the mark he made already and choosing a spot for the next.

Eddie chuckled a bit, and finished unbuttoning Richie’s shirt the rest of the way, he didn’t slip it over his shoulders, so Richie didn’t either.

“Fuck… you’re so hot like this…” Eddie said, breathy and whiny, his legs hooking around Richie’s hips and pulling him closer.

“You’re one to talk Kaspbrak.” Richie said, pulling away from his neck to sit upright and run his hands along Eddie’s clothed damp chest before tugging his shirt up. Eddie pulled it off the rest of the way and started to work on getting his jeans off, Richie did the same. When they were both down to their boxers Richie had to lean down and press a kiss to Eddie’s clavicle, eager to press another mark into his skin there.

Eddie squirmed and knotted his fingers into Richie’s damp hair, now springing back to life with curls from the lack of heavy moisture.

“Richie…” Eddie whined, and Richie’s ears prickled at the sound. “Get the fuck inside of me…”

Richie nipped at Eddie’s neck before pulling away, and going into his side table drawer, fishing through pictures, guitar strings, picks, and whatever else was in there to find his bottle of lube and a condom. When he returned to Eddie he knelt on the ground in front of him, tugging him closer by the backs of his knees. He pressed a kiss and a bite to his hip bone and reached a hand to tweak at his nipples, Eddie squirmed at the attention and tangled his fingers into Richie’s hair.

Richie knew how eager Eddie was to fucking _get there_ and Richie wanted nothing more than to be inside of him, fucking into him until he was speechless and quivering, providing every ounce of pleasure he deserved. He tugged his boxers down then, updating his spank bank archives with the visual of Eddie’s desperately hard dick smacking up against his abdomen, wet with precum and dark pink at the tip, matching the color of his bruised lips.

“So… fucking _pretty…”_ Richie growled as he ran a hand along Eddie’s inner thigh, catching his fingers beneath his knee and bending his leg up to expose his perfect pink entrance.

“Fuck… I want to eat you out _so bad_ …” Richie said running his fingers along the sensitive skin of Eddie’s inner thigh.

Eddie’s legs quivered at that. “Not today… I want to kiss you still…” Eddie panted.

“Someday?”

Eddie snorted and nodded, momentarily pulled from his clouded mind of arousal to find Richie’s eagerness amusing.

“Whatever day that is, is my new fucking birthday.” Richie said as he uncapped the lube and slicked up his fingers, he waited a beat to warm them before circling his middle finger around the hole he so desperately wanted to kiss.

Eddie panted and gripped the black duvet as Richie pushed his finger in. Richie kissed and mouthed at the soft, sensitive skin on Eddie’s inner thigh to help ease the sensation of their prep work. He worked slowly and was careful to not move or add another until Eddie was perfectly relaxed and used to the pressure.

He gasped and grunted _beautifully_ , every once in a while his thigh would twitch or quiver against Richie’s cheek or lips and he would feel the jump of his waiting dick in his boxers. It was _hot_ having Eddie come apart like this around his fingers, every once in a while he would flex his fingers and push up against his prostate, Eddie would throw his head back and groan each time. This was Richie’s new favorite thing to do.

“Richie… please… I’m ready…” He was three fingers prepped and growing impatient.

Richie slowly slid his fingers out, and reached for the condom, he stood up and dropped his boxers to the floor.

“Woah… _what the fuck…_ ” Eddie whined.

“What, are you okay?” Richie was taken aback.

“I thought you were fucking _lying…_ ” Eddie sat up a bit, and stared down at Richie’s cock.

Richie couldn’t help but laugh then.

“Holy _shit_ Richie!?”

“What!? Is this a problem?”

“This is _the furthest thing_ from a fucking problem!”

“Fuck, I never pinned you to be a size-queen Eds.” Richie growled and bent into his space, leaning down to get into his face and kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“And I never pinned you to have a fucking massive cock.” Eddie growled right back. “Get that fucking thing inside of me right now.”

“Aye-aye captain!” Richie laughed and opened the condom with his teeth.

Eddie gripped the back of his neck and scalp and hooked his legs around Richie’s hips, Richie slid the condom on and lined himself up with Eddie’s hole.

“Are you sure we prepped enough?” Richie asked, needing to reassure that Eddie was ready, but also dying to tease him a bit.

“Just fucking push in before I do it myself!” Eddie whined, his fast, eager, _desperate_ voice making his sentence sound like it was one giant word.

Richie snorted a laugh and did just that, he went as slow as possible because he knew _damn well_ that he didn’t want to hurt Eddie. Whose expression was the most erotic thing Richie has ever seen in his life, his mouth gaped, exposing his slick pink tongue, brows and eyes knotted and squinted as if he was stuck in a silent whine. His fingers gripped the back of Richie’s hair.

Richie leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

Eddie shook his head back and forth, to busy focusing on breathing and adjusting to the width of Richie to speak.

When he deemed necessary, he pushed in a bit more, his indicator being the grip that Eddie had on his hair, when lax he knew to go deeper, when taught he knew to stay put. Not moving was _agony_ because his body wanted so desperately to fuck into the tight heat, but his heart and mind said no. He stroked through Eddie’s drying hair and pressed kisses to his cheeks and mouth as they worked through the process, slow and steady.

By the time his hips were flush against the swell of Eddie’s ass, his eyes were squeezed shut and his face was entirely hot and flushed. His breathing was heavy and growing labored.

“You okay?” Richie asked.

“ _Yes…_ ” His voice came out in a whisper between pants, growing more and more stiff and wheezy.

Richie chuckled and reached for the light blue inhaler, popping the dark blue cap off with his teeth before shaking it and putting it in Eddie’s mouth, he triggered it, and Eddie took a deep breath of the medicine. Richie let go of the inhaler and used that hand to grab the back of one of Eddie’s knees to push his leg up and loop his arm around the back of it, spreading him wide open.

Eddie still held the inhaler in his mouth between his teeth and lips, same blissed out, whiney expression on his face. His hands were still gripped in Richie’s hair.

“Relax Eds, we’re almost there…” Richie soothed and kissed at his cheek.

Eddie whined and arched his back, dropping the inhaler from his mouth and letting it clatter to the bed on the side of his head.

“You love it when I call you that huh…” Richie mumbled against his ear.

Eddie clawed at his back and wiggled his hips, soft moans and pants escaping his lips.

“Eddie baby, you’re so fucking tight…”

“Richie…move…” Eddie begged, voice wrecked and eager.

Richie did just that, he pulled out only to push right back in, a little rougher than he had intended, and Eddie was _quivering for it_. He felt his thighs shake at his hips and against his arm as Eddie moaned in pleasure. The moment was so entirely perfect that he did it again, and again. He wasn’t at his max speed by any means, still trying draw out the moment as best he could, being as gentle as he could be with Eddie coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck! Richie… how are you so… fucking big…” Eddie whined, louder than he might have intended.

Richie chuckled and adjusted his arm so that Eddie was stretched out more, his body angled in such a way that allowed Richie to pound into him better. Eddie’s blissed out expression with the change of position told everything to Richie that he needed to know, the speechless whine on his face was telling of the fact that Richie was brushing right against his prostate with each thrust.

His glasses were foggy, but God knows he wouldn’t take them off, he wanted to _see_ Eddie come undone. His thrusts were faster now, angled with more purpose, fucking into Eddie and bringing him closer and closer to his moment with each smack of Richie’s hips against his ass.

“You’re so fucking close for me huh…”

Eddie’s face was crumpled bliss, eyebrows knotted together, tears cornered in his eyes, mouth hung open and cheeks blushed pink. He looked so fucking beautiful then, Richie connected their mouths and sloppily reached an arm between their bodies, and wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock, pumping him in time with his thrusts.

Eddie craned his neck and moaned into his mouth, so loud that Richie knew Stan had to have heard from across the hall. He didn’t care though, and enjoyed the way Eddie clenched around him from the added layer of stimulation.

Richie felt his own orgasm coming but he disregarded it, thrusting with pure intention of bringing Eddie to his own.

“ _Right…there Richie… oh my GOD!”_ Eddie’s legs were an uncontrolled quivering mess. “ _I’m…. I’m gonna…”_

And there it was, Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm erupted, he came _so hard_ that some of it landed on his cheek, and Richie felt like he could cry. He came in that moment as well, leaning down and licking the spot of cum from Eddie’s cheek as he filled the condom.

He pressed their foreheads together for a second as they panted together, Eddie’s eyes fluttered open and searched for Richie’s. He smirked at him dumbly and Eddie scoffed with breathy laughter. He pulled out slowly, and they both hissed at the overstimulation. He then tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash before laying on his back next to Eddie, each of their chests covered in his cum.

“That was fucking _good_ …” Eddie said, still catching his breath.

“That’s an understatement.” Richie chuckled.

“You’re right.”

Richie huffed a laugh.

“We… have to shower…” Eddie said between breaths, making no effort to sit up and try to stand.

“Can you walk?” Richie asked, chuckling a bit.

Eddie laughed as well and shook his head, goofy smile on his face to match. Richie loved him so fucking much in that moment.

They lay for as long as it took for them to catch their breath completely, Richie felt the familiar burn in his thighs and abdomen that came from fucking someone into the bed as he sat up, he was happy that this time it had been _Eddie_ he was fucking and not some person he was _pretending_ to be Eddie.

“I can’t believe we just fucking did that.” Eddie said, in his normal cadence of voice now.

“I know, isn’t it amazing?”

“We waisted so much fucking time…” Eddie said a bit somberly. “I’ve been in love with you since I came out…”

“Well we have a lot to make up for then.” Richie said, trying not to dwell on the fact that they could have been loving each other like this since high school.

“Yeah we do.” Eddie agreed, chuckling a bit.

Richie stood then, and offered his hands to help Eddie up, of which he took and allowed Richie to pull him into standing. He pressed a kiss to his forehead once he was there in front of him, just because he fucking _could now._

They walked to the door, Eddie with a hand on Richie’s shoulder to help him balance. Richie clicked it open and peaked into the hall, they were both butt ass naked and he wasn’t really prepared for a confrontation like that just yet. When he saw that the coast was clear they went across the hall.

They took turns showering and using the sink, getting themselves ready for bed in their own routines. When they were finished they each wrapped a towel around their waists and Richie opened the door for them to leave, only to be met with a very annoyed appearing Stanley Uris standing right in front of the door with crossed arms.

“Could you two be any louder?” He said, grumbling.

“Probably, yes.” Richie said, nodding, thankful that they decided to wrap towels around their waists before opening the door.

Eddie stifled his laughter behind him.

“Congratulations you two.” Stan said, a prominent edge to his voice, as he went back into his room.

“Thanks Stan!”

“Sorry Stan!”

They stood for a second giggling and then made their way back to Richie’s room, they both dressed in Richie’s clothes, Eddie pulling on his choice of a dark cozy tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants that were _way_ too big for him, Richie dressing in a tee shirt and boxers, flopping into bed and tossing his glasses onto the table. He held open the blanket as well as his arms for Eddie to join him, of which he snuggled into. Fitting into them as if he was made to, slotting together like a puzzle piece somewhere deep in Richie’s heart. He buried his face in Richie’s chest and wrapped his arms around him securely.

They held each other close, Richie occasionally raking his fingers through Eddie’s hair line, pushing his drying hair back away from his face, pressing tender kisses to his temple and loving the way Eddie’s mouth tweaked at the corners. He fell asleep watching him, the way his eyelashes fanned across the tops of his freckled cheeks, mouth parted slightly with his chest rising and falling to a slow rhythm in his arms.

It was perfect, and beautiful, and this was officially Richie’s favorite day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please tell me what you think! And once again, if you would like to be added to my tag list for this fic and the upcoming sequel please leave your tumblr URL in the comments, that way you'd be notified when I upload!


	8. Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's words had been so sweet when he had asked Richie on a date... their first date to be exact. It was now up to Richie to not allow his nerves and his irrational fear of homophobic abusive assholes to get in the way.

The first week of openly loving Eddie had been the best God damn week of Richie Tozier’s life. They spent every evening together, whether it be doing whatever schoolwork they had, Eddie reading his textbooks for class as Richie plucked at his guitar for background noise, or simply relaxing in each other’s company.

Richie has caught Eddie staring at him more often in this past week as well. Catching his gaze through the sliding glass door as he smoked outside with Bev, looking up from his work to see Eddie’s big brown eyes across the table, and opting to instead watch Richie across the couch instead of watch whatever movie they had on the television. It was exhilarating having Eddie’s attention all of the time, in fact, selfishly deep down, that’s all Richie has ever wanted.

It was funny when Bill and Mike eventually found out about them finally getting together. Everyone kind of subconsciously decided to not tell them and let them _figure it out_ for themselves. It didn’t really click for Mike until that Sunday, when Richie swooped in behind Eddie cooking at the stove and smothered his cheek from behind in kisses. Mike mentioned something about Eddie not retaliating or pushing him away and Eddie responded by spinning around and crashing their lips together. Mike was taken aback so hard that the dish he held clattered to the floor.

Stan had walked in laughing from the library and helped him to clean up the mess. Mike thought it was cruel to not tell him at first, but of course he was overjoyed for his friends and gave them each a giant hug.

For Bill, it had been the following Monday, when they were all home from classes, Bill, Bev, Richie and Eddie relaxing in the living room with a few joints. Instead of shot gunning with the _distance_ that Richie hated so much they instead connected their mouths after each hit, the kisses were brief and pretty much unnoticeable for anyone who was as intoxicated as Bill Denbrough was then. 

It was when they were working up a pretty good high, having been almost finished with the joint they shared that the kisses started to linger and their mouths grew hungrier, Bill _finally_ noticed when the kisses grew so heated that tongues became involved, and Eddie’s fingers found Richie’s hair, pushing him back to lay on the couch as Eddie slotted between his legs on top of him.

“Wait… what the fuck?” Bill said, high off his ass.

“Old news…” Bev chuckled.

Richie laughed, so Eddie did too. Bill was so high that he thought they had told him already, so he just kind of went with it. They all laughed about it together the next morning when Bill asked if it was real.

Now, when Richie sat in his room to play his guitar, Eddie was there too. As Richie sat on the floor in front of his amplifier, Eddie sat behind him, with his arms wrapped around his torso and his head resting on his upper back. He would hum along to the songs Richie played and would press kisses into his spine. Richie had been taken aback with the new habit, it having been so tender and soft. He never really pictured Eddie to be this way, and he wasn’t sure why… because this was fucking amazing and Eddie was one of the sweetest people he knew.

Their dynamic hadn’t had much of a shift and Richie was grateful for that, one of the only differences being that instead of their normal banter ending in laughter or playful pinches of Eddie’s cheek, they ended in kisses and each other hotly pressed against the wall. It was erotic and over the top, and Richie loved it. Loved having Eddie craving him in the same way that Richie craved him.

Richie loved that they could be this way around their friends, having been already well adjusted to the concept of PDA with the whole _Benverly_ get together. They could hold each other, kiss each other, _love_ each other in the comfort of their own home.

Their home felt as if it was a safe space in Richie’s mind, and that was a perfect way to think, because that’s what homes were _supposed_ to be. However, Richie felt that everywhere that _wasn’t_ their home, was a place that had judgement, that had people that were ready to embarrass him or put him in danger. Or worse, put _Eddie_ in danger. He was afraid to kiss Eddie when they left the house. Their grocery run on Wednesday felt stiff and forcibly platonic, and Richie hated it.

In his mind for the past almost _decade_ everything would have lined up, Richie would have finally overcome his fear of his own sexuality and would be able to love Eddie openly all the same. He so _desperately_ wanted to take Eddie on a _real date…_ feeling a toxic angst in his heart that said, _‘Connor took him on plenty of dates, you can’t even take him on one.’_

He knew that thinking this way was wrong and unhealthy, but he just couldn’t help it… he had been overwhelmingly jealous of the guy for _months,_ it was hard to just forget everything all at once and focus entirely on loving Eddie at his own pace.

He fantasized about taking Eddie to a movie, or to the arcade in in town they have yet to step foot in. In his mind, he even takes Eddie to used car lots before their dinner reservations, just to see what they had, because Eddie likes that sort of thing. He tried his best to focus on mustering the courage, and there were times when he was tempted to just say _fuck it_ , but was always hung up on the _what if…_

The week had been a good distraction, but the weekend was coming, and he really, _really_ wanted to take Eddie out, wanted to spend every dime he had on him and shown him the time of his life. His dammed nerves, and fucking _fear_ standing entirely in the way of him trying to figure out what their perfect, judgement free date would be. He wished they were in New York, or Los Angeles, where people were more accepting, or just didn’t give a fuck, he felt he would feel more comfortable then.

Richie’s classes this semester were a breeze, with Chemistry officially gone and dead in his rear-view mirror, he tackled his classes like it was his fucking job, which it kind of was. Eddie kept him up on assignments, because _Eddie_ kept up on assignments, and Richie wanted to be near him so bad, that he sat with him as he worked, doing his own work, despite it being due next month.

It was Friday now, and Richie had only had a lecture for a sociology class at ten o’clock. He was walking home from it now, enjoying the weather, which was shifting into spring, his favorite time of year. It was still cold, but it wasn’t as piercing, and it made Richie happy to see the sun longer and longer each day.

He was the first one home as usual, and walked in the circle he usually did in his routine of just arriving home from classes, going through the living room to drop off his book-bag in the library, then walking into the kitchen to grab a quick meal, usually a bowl of cereal, or on days like today, a slice of left over pizza from the fridge, un-microwaved and deliciously cold. As he ate, he walked upstairs to his room, kicking off his shoes and kicking on his amplifier, he had had a song trapped in his head all day, ideas of what the fingerings and chords were echoed in his mind as he tried to pick it apart in his head. He ate the rest of his pizza as fast as he could as settled into his seat on the ground in front of the amp.

 _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ by Nirvana had been the song, the piece was sloppy and _loud,_ and Richie had played it that way, bobbing his head and mumbling the lyrics when he got comfortable with the fingerings and tempo. He had about an hour to kill until Eddie and Bev got home, each of their final classes of the day ending at twelve thirty, and he intended to spend it playing his guitar is loud as he wanted in his room. He found himself growing more and more focused on the piece as the time passed, he went from slumping over his guitar to laying back on the ground entirely, with his guitar held somewhere up on his chest and his eyes squeezed shut, playing as loud and sloppy as he wanted.

He lay there, with his legs crossed on bent knees, foot elevated in the air, tapping along to the blare of his guitar as his eyes closed, to more easily focus on the feel of the strings beneath his fingers and the placement of them. He was getting more and more comfortable with the song, now having figured out just about the whole thing and had been playing through the whole piece when he felt shuffling around his body and the weight of someone taking a seat on his hips.

Richie smiled before opening his eyes, happy to see Eddie’s smiling face above him, Richie finished the phrase of the song he was on and set is guitar down next to him on the ground.

“Well hello to you too Spaghetti-Man…” Richie said teasingly as Eddie leaned down and pecked a kiss to his lips. “How was class?”

“It was good… boring…” Eddie shrugged, letting his hands trace down Richie’s chest as he spoke. “How about yours?”

“Pretty much the same.” Richie agreed, and let his hands fall on top of Eddie’s thighs on either side of his waist, because he fucking _could._

“Hey… I wanted to talk to you about something…” Eddie said then, swinging his weight off of Richie and shifting to sit next to him on the floor instead. Richie sat up and faced him.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?” Richie asked, figuring it was something that Eddie needed help working out, possibly a dilemma with something about plans for the summer or something in one of his classes.

“So… I’ve been thinking, like all week pretty much, that I wanted to… take you on a date…” Eddie started, approaching the topic nervously, Eddie knew better than anyone about Richie’s whole internal battle whenever the time came to being openly _somewhat_ gay in public. “And before you say anything let me explain a few more things…”

Eddie shifted a bit closer and held one of Richie’s hands with both of his own, fiddling with his fingers and knuckles as he spoke. “I know how nervous you are about being out in the world with me now, but I want you to see that there’s nothing to worry about, and there’s no better way to _see_ that than going on a date and seeing that for yourself.”

Richie laughed nervously and focused on Eddie’s hands fiddling with his own. He felt his heart-rate speed and his palms get wet with nervous perspiration.

“Richie, I just want you to see that the world isn’t Derry, sure there’ll be assholes everywhere and we still live in a weird small town, but its just not like that anymore. Bowers is in jail and he was probably as worse as it’ll ever get. Its only up from here, you know?” Eddie dipped his head, to catch Richie’s eyes with his own.

Talking about this stuff was never something that came easy for Richie, he usually only talked over how being a human punching bag for Bowers made him feel right after the events, when Eddie would be cleaning him up, or hanging out with him in one of their bedrooms. It was usually Eddie he talked about this stuff with, and it was easy in the moment, but now he just felt weird, and _embarrassed_ that he can’t accept himself enough to not worry about what others thought of his sexuality.

The fear, crippling his ability to openly love the man of his dreams, such an ugly, morally incorrect fear that Richie hated that he had. He was embarrassed because his morals were enough in check to recognize that the fear was irrational and very much over-reactive. The mere thought of holding Eddie’s hand at the grocery store this past week was causing him to glance over his shoulder and put his hands in his pockets, as if someone were to have been able to read his mind and see what he had been considering in the moment. The whole thing had been stressful and upsetting, he so desperately craved Eddie’s touch, their relationship new and exciting, them making up for so much lost time and opportunities. The fact that his mind told him he _‘shouldn’t touch other boys Richie’_ was frustrating and made him want to scream.

Eddie understood his brain. He understood what goes through it in times like that and was completely okay with Richie’s awkwardness about the situation. But the thing about Eddie understanding him so well, is that he’s going to try to get Richie out of his shell. Richie should have seen it coming, Eddie coming to him so sweetly, telling him he wants to take him on a date and show him that the world is okay with people like them.

Riche just shook his head with nervous laughter, coming to terms with the fact that he was going to agree to Eddie’s proposal and go on a date with him. Saying no to Eddie was something that Richie felt he could never do.

He felt that he was rendered speechless, growing awkward with the topic of the conversation, all he could do was give one of Eddie’s hands a squeeze and nod his head. Eyes wandering from spots on Eddie’s face down to their hands and back again.

“Richie you could say no if you’re not ready…” Eddie reassured.

“No, I’m fine… I don’t think I’ll ever… _be_ ready…” Richie said, a little disappointed with himself.

Eddie nodded. “But you still want to go?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Richie chuckled a bit.

“Okay.” Eddie said, smiling at him for a second before continuing. “And we don’t have to kiss or anything… we’ll go at your pace okay? Even if you’re all stiff and awkward and sweaty.” Eddie teased, referencing their grocery trip.

“Yeah, _thanks Eddie.”_ Richie said sarcastically.

“Seriously though… everything is going to be okay… alright? No one is going to kill us… or _want_ to kill us or anything like that.”

“I know that… I just can’t stop being weird about this stuff.” Richie said, a defeated tone to his voice.

“I know, I just wanted to reassure you more, you look nervous as hell already.” Eddie tugged at one of the curls at Richie’s forehead, pulling it taught, then letting it bounce back to its spring.

Richie smirked at the action.

“And we can leave whenever you want, even though I don’t think you’re going to want to…” Eddie teased.

“Wait, where are we even going?” Richie asked, a little excited about the fact that Eddie picked the place already and knew that Richie would like it.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out at seven o’clock tomorrow night.” Eddie teased as he leaned to connect their lips.

Richie sat back and smiled at him. His sweet face, every ounce of excited and soft with adoration for _him,_ Richie still couldn’t believe Eddie was with him like this. _Loving_ him like this, so soft and sweet and caring.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Richie asked then, because he honestly was at a loss.

“Shut up.” Eddie teased.

* * *

“What do I even wear?” Richie called through his opened door, they were leaving soon, and Eddie still hasn’t told him where they were going.

“Just wear what you always wear!” Eddie called back, from his own room, getting ready himself.

“If you say so Spaghetti-Man…” Richie said walking back to his dresser.

He pulled on a long-sleeved shirt, blocky stripes of forest green and black. On top of that, he shrugged on one of his many Hawaiian shirts, a looser fitting one, and lastly pulled on some jeans, dark dusty blue with a few rips. He buttoned the Hawaiian shirt and tucked it into his pants, he left most of the top buttons undone, deciding that it was really _doing something_ for the outfit.

Lastly, he put on a random pair of socks, to call them a _pair_ was a stretch though, because they didn’t match remotely, and then toed into his trusty black Chuck Daniels. He didn’t bother with his hair because it was a lost cause anyway, though it _has gotten better_ since he decided to start using shampoo and conditioner instead of the two in one he’s used since middle school. His curls kind of fell together now and were less frizzy and dried out.

He stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets before leaving his room to go into Eddies. And what he walked into was a beautiful sight. Eddie stood in front of his dresser, fixing his hair with a comb and some product, wearing the most adorable outfit ever.

Dark red V-neck sweater with white piping accents, matched with light wash jeans that fucking _fit him well…_ cuffed at the ankles and perfectly accenting the swell of his ass.

“Hey you look nice!” Eddie said, glancing at him in the mirror.

“You look better! Like holy shit your ass in those jeans!” Richie said, because he could say things like that out loud now.

Eddie just snorted and continued to do his hair.

Richie walked into his room completely and threw himself onto the bed, laying on his side to watch Eddie.

“You nervous?” Eddie asked.

“Pfft… no…” Richie said sarcastically.

“It’s going to be fine… we’re going to have fun!”

“Yeah, I know…” Richie sighed and reached to loop a finger into Eddie’s back pocket, feeling his finger press into the soft, squish of skin.

Eddie took a step back, accommodating for the reach, Richie smirked to himself.

“I’m happy I can stare at your ass with no shame now, I don’t have to act like I wasn’t.”

“I’m happy too.” Eddie laughed.

Richie ran his fingers and palm against his form for a minute, he didn’t want to get too carried away, because he didn’t want to make them late for whatever Eddie had planned for their date. But oh _God_ how he wanted to, because Eddie looked so fucking perfect in these jeans, so perfect that he just wanted to tear them off.

When Eddie was finished with his hair, he clipped on his fanny pack, and Richie was hit with a _wave of nostalgia._ He was at a complete loss now as to _why_ Eddie would be having to clip it on, because his inhaler was the only medication he _actually_ needed, and he lost touch of his habit for over-preparing for every situation. Though he wasn’t sure _why_ he put it on, he sure was happy to see it, having not realized just how much he’s missed it.

“That’s a sight for sore eyes.” Richie commented.

“Sure is.” Eddie agreed, then lead the way out the door.

It was when they were trotting down the stairs that Richie noticed the way Eddie _jingled_ … he sounded like his fanny pack was filled with nothing but loose change.

“Damn Eds, you sound like a piggy bank.” Richie teased as he held the front door open for him. “You got a cork I need to pop out or something?”

“You’re so fucking vulgar it’s disgusting.” Eddie scoffed.

“That’s not what you said last night!” Richie said as he jogged past him towards the car, tapping his ass as he flew past, skidding to a halt to hold the driver’s side door open for Eddie.

“Unbe-fucking-lievable” Eddie said as sat down.

“That’s the dorkiest thing you’ve said today.” Richie teased, earning him a light punch to his gut before Eddie pulled the door closed.

Richie ran around the car and sat down in the passenger’s seat as Eddie started the car.

“So, are you still not going to tell me where we’re going?” Richie asked as he buckled his seat-belt.

“Not after that little number.” Eddie laughed as he reversed the car out of the driveway.

As they drove into town Richie tried to not dwell on the whole thing, which was easy because he kept trying to figure out _where the hell they were going_. Richie grew more and more confused as they drove passed restaurant after restaurant, even passing the movie theater and the road for their local drive in. Richie was running out of guesses.

They drove through a good part of town before Eddie _finally_ pulled into a parking lot. Richie didn’t have to read the sign out front to know that they were at the arcade. Eddie, the little shit, had planned the date around what he knew _Richie_ would want to do and he had fallen for him all over again, if that was even possible. Eddie, _sweet, sweet_ Eddie, had known that Richie would be nervous for their first date together, so he went out of his way to stuff his fanny pack full of arcade tokens, and surprised Richie with a fun and exciting date revolving around what he knew _he_ would want to do.

Richie sat there smiling at him, his goofy toothy grin that squinted his eyes so much that the left one seemed to have been stuck in a wink.

“What!?” Eddie said.

“I just love you, a lot…” Richie said, through his smile, tipping his head back against the headrest.

Eddie blushed and bit his lip, eyes darting to the windows. Richie picked up on his thinking and decided to just lean in, deciding that he didn’t care if someone saw them in that moment, he wanted to express his love for his _boyfriend_ and by _God_ he was going to fucking kiss him.

The whole thing was slow, and sweet, he connected their lips slowly, he didn’t want to advance the kiss too far, just a press of their lips against one another, Eddie’s slick with cherry Chapstick and wet from where he held it in his mouth moments before. The kiss was warm and soft, and Richie was happy he had done it. Eddie smirked at him when he pulled away.

“I love you too Richie.” He said, and the moment was perfect.

As they walked inside, Richie had his hands shoved in his pockets, the place wasn’t too packed which was nice, giving them plenty of options for games. The atmosphere was fun, and the lighting was dim so that the colors lasering off of some of the games could project onto the ceiling and omit a psychedelic glow across the large room. There was a little bar for drinks, food, candy, and whatever else they sold there. Across from that, had been the counter in which you trade in tickets for prizes, a concept Richie was _thrilled_ about, already eyeing a blow up alien doll and a finger trap.

“Well, what do you want to do first?” Eddie asked, unzipping his fanny pack, revealing a _good amount_ of tokens for the machines. It had to have been forty bucks worth of tokens.

“Fucking _Christ_ where did you get all these tokens?” Richie said, digging his hand into the pouch, and grabbing a handful, as if to check if they were real.

“I fucking _bought_ them! Bev and I came up here after class yesterday!.” Eddie explained. “I didn’t want you to try to pay for everything.”

“That’s not fair, you could have at least let us battle it out at the token machine.” Richie said, dumping all but one of the coins back into Eddie’s fanny pack. The single token he kept was dropped into his front pocket with his wallet, he wanted to keep it forever.

“Next time.” Eddie said.

“Deal.”

Eddie led the way into the hoard of games, they played whatever seemed to be fun, stupid, or that would get them a lot of tickets. For Richie it felt weird at first, being there with Eddie, in such a public place with such an _urge_ to have his hands on him, at his back, on his shoulders, or holding his hand. The urge was so strong because he knew now that he fucking _could_ hold Eddie’s hand or even slot his hand into his back pocket and Eddie would be _more than fine_ with that.

When they reached the back of the arcade, Richie was struck with another wave of nostalgia. The back corner of the arcade had been where they kept most of the games that people weren’t too interested in anymore, except for Richie Tozier of course, because there along the back wall was _Street Fighter._ So many days wasted in the movie theater arcade back in Derry, trying so hard to hit that first-place spot. He never did get there, but he had a hell of a time playing the game, and had gotten quite good at it.

 _“Holy shit…”_ Richie said as he noticed the machine, he had been leaned against a game that Eddie was invested in, watching him smack a red button over and over again trying to hit the jackpot on some con-game for more tickets, of which had been strung around Richie’s neck and shoved into his back pockets.

“Wait what?” Eddie said, darting his eyes between Richie and the game he was playing. But he was too late because Richie had already stolen a handful of tokens and was swiftly walking over to the game.

He ran his fingers along the machine, so familiar and seemingly much smaller now. He positioned his hands over the control board how he used to, and felt weird about how much his hands were no longer strained to hold the position over the buttons. He felt himself grin like an idiot, nostalgia hitting him _hard_ as he dropped his handful of tokens in the spot on the gaming dash that he used to. He picked one from the pile and popped it into the coin slot, he didn’t even have to look, or check his placement when slotting the coin in, it being second nature to him.

The game played all of its familiar audio and Richie went through the motions of jumping into his first fight. He was having a blast playing the game, smile still evident on his features as he hunched over the dash, immersed in the game and following along with the all too familiar dialog and fighting sounds.

He felt Eddie drape the tickets he had won around his neck, and stand at his side.

“You knew this was here.” Richie said, through his focus on the game.

“No, I didn’t, I swear.” Eddie said, completely sarcastic and entirely lying.

“Yes, you did you fucking liar.” Richie laughed.

Eddie laughed too, and Richie felt him put his hand on his hip as he leaned more towards the screen to watch Richie play. Richie felt himself welcoming the touch, and even leaned into it as he played. He felt Eddie’s thumb move back and forth and he felt as if it was the source of a tide, waves of love lapping from the touch to each fiber of his being.

When the round was over, they played together, as Richie played he tried to analyze his thoughts. He felt so fearful of being in public with Eddie, and he couldn’t figure out why, because nothing about their current situation was bad, it was entirely the opposite. Eddie had just touched him so sweetly, and Richie didn’t feel an ounce of fear. A felt confidence, not embarrassment, he felt love, and not _fear._

They weren’t in Derry, Bowers wasn’t hiding around the corner, they were safe. They were having _fun_ and they were _in love._ As they played, they bumped hips and pulled each other’s hands away from the buttons or the joysticks whenever they were losing. It had mostly been Eddie elbowing, bumping, and pulling because Richie was in his element, playing the game he used for so long as his outlet. A way to distract his brain from thinking about how he liked boys like how he liked girls, and trying his best to ignore the fact that he thought about Eddie in that way.

How ironic is it now, that he was able to grope his ass and kiss him just before they came here tonight. Richie felt a place in his heart come full circle, the game that had been his distraction, was now something so beautiful to him, like a friend that was always there when he needed to forget about everything for a minute, only to accept him for accepting those things he tried to push away. He knew it was weird, to think about an arcade game in that light, but it just meant so much to him that he couldn’t help but feel sentimental.

They played until Richie had to shake out and crack his fingers, stiff from playing the same game for so long. Eddie had suggested that they go back to the ‘lottery’ games and try to win more tickets. Richie agreed and wrapped his arm around Eddie as they walked. Comfortable with that now. Eddie grabbed his hand that hung in front of his shoulder and led them back to the game he had been playing before.

It was Richie who rested his hand on Eddie’s waist now, pressing his fingers lightly into his side whenever he felt the urge to press the button himself. They both agreed that Eddie had been better at pressing the button, having a better eye for when the light would line up correctly so they could win the most tickets. As they played, Richie’s hand fell lower and lower, eventually finding its way into his back pocket, because he fucking _could_ and decided that he really, _really_ wanted to.

Eddie flashed him a smirk between rounds and Richie winked at him in return. Everything was great, feeling Eddie, warm and soft beneath his hand, leaning so intimately into his space as he won them a fuck ton of tickets. It was great, it really was, until it wasn’t.

“What the fuck is _this!?_ ” The voice all too familiar.

Possessively, Richie kept his hand where it was, only letting it fall from Eddie’s pocket when he turned around, instead opting to grab his wrist, because the look on Eddie’s face said it all.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie said, and it was a valid question, seeing such a jockey dude at an arcade seemed to be a little out of place.

“I don’t have to explain myself.” Connor said.

Richie snorted and his attention was drawn to the game that Eddie had left forgotten, the light spun around and around along the light up wheel, waiting for someone to push the button to try and land on the jackpot. Richie felt like being a dumb ass then, so he reached awkwardly over the bridge of his hold on Eddie to smack the button.

 _“Damn…”_ he said when all they got were two tickets.

“And you’re with _this_ dumbass!?” Connor said, hand outstretched in reference to Richie.

“Hey man, I’m surprised about it too.” Richie said laughing.

“Don’t _fucking call him that._ ” Eddie spat and smacked his free hand on the dash of the game behind him for emphasis, he was really pissed off now.

Richie didn’t want Eddie to break anything or worse, go after Connor, so he grabbed Eddies other arm and added it to the grasp he had on his first one.

“What the hell do you see in this guy anyway?” Connor said in almost disbelief. “What is his dick bigger than mine or something!?”

Richie couldn’t hold back his urge to snort into laughter. “I mean… apparently!” Richie cackled. “ _That,_ and he’s in love with me so… win-win.”

“Unbelievable…” Connor said.

“I mean it’s pretty believable.” Eddie said, his voice still holding the power it did initially.

Richie gave his wrists a soft squeeze, as if to urge him to not pick a fight. The reversal of roles was interesting.

“Look man, we’re not looking to fight or anything—”

“What ‘cause I beat the shit out of you last time!?” Connor interrupted.

“No, for the record, I knew _full well_ what I was getting into…” Richie laughed. “What I was _trying_ to say was, you should just fucking leave so we can enjoy our date in peace, and so you don’t have to walk around all sulky in front of a bunch of people.”

“I’m not fucking leaving.” Connor said.

“That’s really weird man, senior in college, hanging out at a fucking arcade, alone…” Richie rambled, face held in a cringe.

Connor went from pissed, to entirely enraged, Richie having figured him out.

“Alright, we’re leaving, but only because Eddie’s pouch has run dry, and I am dying to get my hands on that inflatable alien behind the counter over there.” Richie said, zipping Eddie’s fanny pack closed and dropping his hold on Eddie’s wrists to snag the ribbon of tickets from the machine, draping them over his shoulders and slotting Eddie into his side before walking away.

He felt _such a fucking power surge_ radiate through him, so he sported the goofiest grin as Eddie strung his thumb through his belt loop as they walked. He imagined that this is what lions had to feel like when they won the battle to be the king of the pack, because he sure as shit felt like fucking royalty right now.

When they got to the counter they dumped all of their tickets into a bucket for the clerk to weigh and their total ended up being well over the price of the inflatable alien. They took turns requesting things, Richie got the alien, a gummy hand to smack his friends with, two finger traps, a mini squirt gun, and a shit ton of laffy-taffy. Eddie got a paddle board, a slingshot, another squirt gun, a slinky, and a fuck ton of Twizzlers. They left with their candy and prizes shoved into their pockets, what they couldn’t put in their pockets they struggled to carry, Richie held the alien by each of his legs around his shoulders.

Despite the whole interruption with _Connor_ showing up, Richie was happy with their first date together. It went far better than he had expected, and was proud of himself for coming out of his shell. He pressed an obnoxious kiss to Eddie’s cheek before they parted ways to go to either sides of the car. Eddie laughed and slinked away to the driver’s side door.

When they got in the car, Richie leaned into the backseat to fasten the inflatable alien in the center seat-belt.

“What’s his name gonna be?” Eddie asked as he started the car.

Richie thought for a minute, settling into his seat, fastening the belt and gazing at the alien in the back seat. “How about… Jabba… like Jabba the Hutt.”

“He looks nothing like Jabba the Hutt.” Eddie laughed as he pulled out onto the street.

“I don’t know, that was just the first alien that came to mind.” Richie shrugged.

Eddie scoffed into a laugh, shaking his head.

They listened to the radio for a minute, Eddie focusing on the road.

“Hey, that was a lot of fun, thanks for taking me…”

“Yeah that was fun!” Eddie agreed.

“Can I just say, that felt good seeing Connor all flustered like that…” Richie said, laughing a bit, still giddy over the fact that he was shocked about them being together.

“Oh my _God…_ ” Eddie laughed too. “I feel like if you weren’t there I would have done something stupid.”

“Me too.” Richie agreed.

“Also, what the fuck was that… you grabbing my wrists like that…”

“What are you upset about it? I’m sorry if that was weird…I just didn’t want you to punch him or something.”

“ _No, no…_ that was fucking hot.” Eddie said, laughing a breathy beautiful laugh.

“Jesus Eds, everything really does turn you on.” Richie giggled, teasing him.

“Shut up, asshole… I can’t fucking help it.”

“I still don’t know what I did to deserve you…” Richie said then, amazed with the fact that Eddie was so eager to love him, and so quick to be aroused by him.

“Fuck off… I can say the same thing.”

“You’re just so perfect, like I am honestly at a loss as to why you want to be with me, of all people me!? Like seriously!?”

“What, are you saying that you think I’m out of your league or something!?” Eddie’s voice was doubtful and sarcastic.

“That’s _exactly_ what I’m saying!”

“Richie you’re like the hottest fucking guy I’ve ever seen in my _life!_ Every time I was fucking someone else I had to imagine everything they were doing to me was _you!_ ”

“Woah… obsessed with me much?” Richie teased, trying to act like that snippet of information wasn’t going _straight to his fucking ego._

“Yes honestly!” Eddie furiously agreed. “Never say shit like that again, all I want is you and there is no such thing as _leagues_ … and if there fucking was, you’d be out of mine if anything.”

“You’re wrong about that last part but I’ll shut up about it.”

“Yeah, you fucking better shut up about it.” Eddie threatened.

Richie waited a beat before talking again, giving Eddie a bit of time to decompress his anger. “So, what is this about me grabbing your wrists being hot?” He teased.

Eddie’s face flushed.

“So, you’ve got a thing for being rough?” Richie urged.

“You’re just so… big…” Eddie said a bit spacey, it was a good thing they were almost home, because Richie felt that Eddie shouldn’t be driving if his mind went too far.

“Okay we’ve _established_ that my dick is—”

“No, it’s your shoulders… and your arms…but especially your hands.” Eddie’s voice was deeper now as his mind wandered.

Richie felt his stomach pool in arousal, thinking about Eddie squirming in his bed at night, thinking about _him._

“Fuck Eds you think about me a lot huh?” Richie urged, turning in his seat to face him now, goofy grin pulled across his mouth.

“You have _no idea…_ ”

Richie suppressed the whine that threatened to erupt from his throat then.

“Your fingers are so fucking _long…_ ” Eddie rambled as they pulled into the driveway. “I always imagined they were stretching me open when it was really just me.”

“Fuck… you’d finger yourself?” Richie made no effort to mask the whine in his voice then, he was such a mess for Eddie talking dirty like this, and Eddie knew it.

Eddie parked the car and shot him his hooded look, bottom lip tugged into his mouth, his brows tugged together in a whine as he nodded.

“I used to have to push my face into the pillows… so I didn’t wake my mom…”

Richie could tell his face was goofy and gaped as he stared blankly at Eddie, imagery of the scene rushing through his brain. Eddie ass up, face down, working himself open in his room back at Derry, thinking about Richie and feeling the urge to moan so bad that he had to do it into the pillows… pillows Richie had used countless times. If he only knew the secrets they held…

Richie’s eyes on the Eddie in front of him now, darted to his pants, his cock had been so fucking hard that it outlined in his jeans. Richie imagined the sight of it with his jeans tugged off, his briefs would be _wet_ with precum, he knew how fucking _wet_ Eddie got for him now, and he licked his lips at the thought.

Eddie reached across the center console and grabbed one of Richie’s hands, running his fingers along the length of _his_ finger, as if measuring just how long it was. He then, _so slowly…_ brought it up to his face, running the pad of his finger along his bottom lip, slick with saliva and red from his teeth biting into it. His tongue darted out first and then, Richie’s finger was in the heat of Eddie’s mouth, hot and wet. His tongue swirling around, and Richie felt the heat in his abdomen grow heavier.

Richie then pushed a second finger passed his lips and Eddie moaned, he felt the vibrations and heat of his voice. Richie’s breath hitched and he snapped his mouth closed, up until that moment, it had been gaped lazily, like how it did when he slept, all focus of his brain falling to Eddie, too much focus to keep his fucking mouth closed and stop himself from _drooling_.

“We have to go inside…” Richie said as he pressed the pads of his fingers down against the top of Eddie’s tongue, a shuddering moan elicited from him and he slowly dragged his fingers out of his mouth, his cheeks hollowed, and he felt the pressure of his tongue against them.

His fingers released with a _pop_ and a string of saliva formed between them and Eddie’s mouth. Richie felt like fucking _sobbing…_ feeling the weight of what _felt_ like a sob wrack his body.

“ _Holy shit Eds…_ ” His voice was stuck somewhere between a whisper and a whine.

He was so fucking horny for anything that Eddie did. He’d never been like this with anyone else, stuck in such a state of arousal that caused him to lose his fucking voice. Eddie being so _sloppy,_ and _dirty_ was something so unexpected of his usual demeanor and it had such a sexual toll on Richie that he couldn’t handle himself. Urges and emotions always so strong with Eddie, now _amplified_ with the unexpected and _oh so fucking dirty._

Eddie sat there for a second before he yanked the keys out of the ignition and ran out of the car giggling, dashing into the house. Richie did the same, catching up to him somewhere on the stairs, he paid no mind to Bill and Mike’s greetings from the living room. He couldn’t bring himself to focus on _anything_ other than Eddie and feeling his hot, wet, _tight_ heat. They barreled into Richie’s room and wasted _no time…_

Eddie pealing off his sweater, and Richie only getting so far as his Hawaiian over-shirt, because Eddie was then face down, kneeling on his bed, waiting for him, wiggling his hips in the air, perfect fucking ass in those damn _jeans._

He practically dove behind him on the bed, cupping, kissing, squeezing his ass and thighs, leaning and bending to nip, bite, and suck into his lower back, kissing each of the dimples on either side of his spine. Eddie leaned into his touch, groaning at the attention.

 _“So… fucking perfect…”_ Richie whispered against his soft warm skin.

He sunk his fingers beneath the tight waistband of the jeans, tugging Eddie’s ass closer to him. He sat up to grind against him for a bit, relieving some of the pressure on his cock. Eddie gasped at the contact and sat up as well, arching his back and grinding back against him.

Richie nosed against his neck, kissing and biting and licking, as his hands worked to unfasten Eddie’s jeans. Eddie wiggled along with his hands as he pushed them down. He fell back into position then, kicking the pants off as he went. Richie gripped and squeezed at the soft skin of his ass and thighs. He dragged his thumb over the spot in which he knew Eddie’s hole to be through his briefs. Earning him a groan. He bent to work a hickey into the back of his thigh and allowed his thumb to put pressure there, Eddie leaning and wiggling into the sensation.

Richie bit the cheek of his ass through his briefs and Eddie moaned. Richie then reached around to his front, feeling for the wet spot that he knew would be there, he rubbed his first two fingers into the head of his cock through the fabric, feeling it wet and slick with precum.

“So, fucking _wet_ for me…” Richie growled.

He rubbed his hands and fingers along just about every spot of Eddie he’d been _dying_ to touch, even reaching around to tweak at his nipples for a second. To have Eddie wiggling, gasping, moaning, and groaning in this position was nothing short of amazing. When he felt satisfied enough to finally take down his underwear, he dug his fingers beneath the waist band and allowed his middle finger to drag through his crack, along his hole as he pulled them down.

The sight was one to cherish for sure, cheeks sprouting red blemishes where Richie had dragged his teeth across them, hole pink and perfect, just fucking _waiting._

“Is it my fucking birthday Eds?” Richie asked, pushing his thumb back against his entrance, squeezing his fingers along the perfect curve of his ass.

Eddie nodded desperately.

Richie then got to work, flying tongue first towards Eddie’s hole, lapping and circling around the tight heat, Eddie moaned so honestly it almost sounded _feminine_. Richie grinned and continued his work, pushing one of his fingers passed the knot of muscle and licking around it as it went, an ample amount of slick saliva acting as their lube in this moment. Eddie’s groans and moans were fucking _wrecked_ … throaty breathless gasps of air with a hint of vocals behind them.

Richie worked his tongue into his entrance next to his finger, spreading him open in the best way possible.

 _“That… fucking mouth…”_ Eddie gasped when he had enough composure.

Richie grinned and focused on fucking him open with his tongue. He added a second finger, lapping around them together in Eddie’s hole, scissoring them when he deemed necessary, sticking his tongue between the open space they made.

When Eddie had been prepped up to his third finger, Richie pulled all three of them out slowly. He positioned his thumbs on either side of his hole then, spreading him open further, lapping and kissing at the stretched skin. Eddie was a fucking _wreck_ now, quivering and whining at the touch and sensation of Richie’s hot mouth and firm tongue.

 _“Richie….”_ Eddie whined breathy and blissed out.

Richie groaned into him and ripped himself away, Eddie lay there, waiting as he went to his nightstand table, fishing what they needed out of his drawer, a condom, lube, and Eddie’s inhaler. He tossed the inhaler on the bed in front of Eddie’s face, and wretched off his shirt and finally pulled down his own pants.

Eddie reached lazily for the inhaler and pumped a shot of medicine down his throat as Richie rolled the condom onto his cock.

Richie felt his mouth drool at the sight of Eddie, stretched and ready, red blemishes across his cheeks and thighs, inhaler held lazily in his mouth as he waited for Richie’s cock. Richie cupped his dick in his hand and squirt the lube on it, wincing a bit at the chill, then jerking himself a few times to coat it. He caught Eddie’s eyes watching him, his cheeks blushed and his back arched. Richie gave him a wink before slotting behind him, holding each of his hips and lining himself up.

For how stretched Eddie had been, it had been easier to push himself inside, tight heat surrounding his dick in the best way possible.

“Your pussy is always so fucking tight for me…” Richie said then, brain going entirely drunk on the arousal and sensation.

Eddie quivered and moaned again at that.

“What, you like it when I talk about your fucking _pussy_ Eds?” Richie growled, hint of amusement in his tone, leaning close to his ear as he said it.

Eddie huffed a breathy shallow mix of a pant and a laugh, beautiful smile tugging at his lips.

Richie then reached a hand to tweak at his nipples, urging him to sit up as well, knowing how good he could fuck him if he did, right into his prostate. Eddie whined at the sensation and listened to Richie, planting his hands firmly on the wall in front of him as Richie positioned his legs accordingly on the bed.

He gave no warning when he sharply thrust into him the first time, Eddie threw his head back in pleasure. His face held a silent whine, the face he made when he was really fucking _gone…_ drunk on Richie’s dick.

Richie worked on a rhythm, slow at first, running his hands up and down Eddie’s sides, tweaking his nipples between his fingers, touching everything but his leaking cock. His pace grew faster after a minute, thrusting firmly into his heat, fondling his prostate each time, nocking Eddie speechless.

“ _Always take my fucking cock so well… arching your back like a fucking pro…”_ Richie’s mouth ran, and frankly he had no idea what he was saying, but it was really doing something for Eddie, who moaned in response.

 _“So, fucking pretty for me…”_ Richie anchored his hands into Eddie’s hips, squeezing him tight, maybe even tight enough to leave marks, as he pounded into him faster now, thrusting with the end goal close now.

Eddie quivered and whimpered, arms growing limp against the wall, falling to his elbows as he cried out his breathy moans as he was nearing his orgasm.

Richie was careful not to weaken his pace as he bent down, to accommodate for Eddie’s shift in position, to still pound directly into his prostate. He released his grasp on one of Eddie’s hips to reach around him, tugging him through his orgasm. It didn’t take long for strings of cum to shoot from his dick, onto the bed spread and into Richie’s fist. Eddie moaning and panting through it. The thrill of Eddie tightening over his dick as he came brought Richie to his own then. 

Richie bent to pepper kisses along Eddie’s upper back whispering sweet nothings as he went along.

“ _Fuck I love you… so fucking beautiful…”_

Richie hugged around Eddie’s torso, pulling him close as he panted in his arms. He kissed at his ear and jaw. Eddie’s hand found Richie’s head and scratched at his scalp.

“I love you too…” Eddie said tangling his lazy fingers into Richie’s curls. “Now get your fucking dick out of me before it’s too late…”

Richie chuckled and leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder as he pulled out, each of them hissing at the overstimulation. He planted one last kiss onto the back of Eddie’s shoulder before pulling away entirely to dispose of the condom.

“We’re sleeping in my room tonight…” Eddie said staring down at the stain on Richie’s black duvet. “and I swear to God if Stan says _one thing_ about us bringing this to the laundromat tomorrow…” Eddie chuckled as he weakly flopped down onto the bed.

“If he doesn’t say something, I will.” Richie sat down next to him laughing. “Just get it all out on the table, nothing up to the imagination. _Oh yeah you see I was fucking Eddie into the wall and he spewed his fucking hot load all over this blanket here—”_

 _“Shut up!”_ Eddie laughed and smacked Richie’s arm.

Richie laughed too and leaned down to rake his fingers through Eddie’s hair line.

“You think you can walk yet?” Richie asked teasing, Eddie staring up at him sweetly.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Eddie replied and sat up on the bed, successfully standing up then, though he was a bit wobbly. “I call first shower.”

Eddie after sex was a sight to behold, hair a fucking wreck, face calm and blissed out still, expression soft and pink at the cheeks, lips rosy and raw, fresh hickeys settling into his skin. He stretched out his legs and bent to pull on Richie’s pair of boxers before going across the hall for a shower, Richie snorted at the way he walked, Eddie just flashed him a look.

As Eddie showered, Richie threw his duvet into his hamper along with the rest of his dirty clothes littering the ground, in preparation for their laundromat trip the following morning. Richie wished that their shower was big enough for both of them, sadly they had a tiny glass stall of a shower, cornered up against the wall and barely big enough to fit Richie by himself. He hopes one day they’d be able to share the space, so intimate though it didn’t always have to be. It could be sweet too, just shampooing Eddie’s hair and watching the way his face scrunches closed as to not get any of it in his eyes. Making a joke about dropping the soap and seeing Eddie get all giggly beneath his flush from the shower.

When Eddie was finished, it was Richie’s turn. Before he showered though, he brushed his teeth, even going the extra mile as to gargle some mouth wash, feeling satisfied with his dental hygiene and looking forward to kissing Eddie’s mouth again. He then jumped in the shower and did what he had to do in there, scrubbing his body clean in a timely manner.

When he was finished he toweled off and slung it around his hips before walking back into his room, Eddie hadn’t been there anymore, in his own room now. Richie dug a shirt out of his dresser and tugged it on, along with a pair of boxers before running the towel through his hair one last time and tossing it by the hamper on his way out of the room.

He creaked Eddie's door open softly, as to not wake him if he was already asleep, and he appeared to be, though his bedside lamp was still on. He had one of Richie’s thinner hoodies on and was snuggled beneath the covers tucked into his bed, face soft and seemingly asleep until his eyes blinked awake at the sound of Richie closing the door behind him.

A soft smile crept onto his face as he snuggled into the pillow and opened up his arms and the blanket for Richie to join him. He flicked off the lamp and folded his glasses onto Eddie’s nightstand before cuddling into the warmth beneath the covers, Eddie’s legs tangling with his almost immediately. Richie scoot close enough to see his face clear in the dark with his glasses off, because he _loved_ falling asleep to the sight of Eddie.

“Hey.” Eddie said then, adorably dorky.

Richie smirked and leaned to connect their lips, feeling Eddie’s, soft and lush, freshly applied cherry Chapstick transferring onto his own lips. When he pulled away to settle back into the pillow, he brought his hand up to cup Eddie’s face, sandwiched between his warm cheek and his soft pillow, Eddie nuzzled into it a bit and Richie dragged his thumb against the corner of his mouth.

He kissed him once more like that, Eddie smirked against his lips and he felt it on his thumb as well.

“I love you.” Eddie said when Richie settled back into the pillow again.

“I love you too, Eds.” Richie smirked softly at him, sleep making his eyelids heavy in the dark.

Eddie nuzzled into Richie’s hand and rested his own on Richie’s wrist, holding him lightly as his eyelids fluttered closed. Richie’s thumb stroked across his cheek for a minute, adoration and love acting as a prominent message relayed through the touch.

Eventually, Eddie’s mouth fell open with sleep, his breaths soft and shallow. Richie let him self go then as well, finally closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep, in bed with the man he never thought he could call his. The man he never imagined could love him so sweetly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I spent most of this fic highlighting the love that Richie has for Eddie, so I really wanted to take this chapter to show just how much Eddie loves Richie! I feel like so often in fics it’s all about how Richie loves Eddie, and there’s nothing wrong with that of course, I just love writing Eddie being sweet with him because its what they both deserve. And Eddie is sweet! He’s not always bickering and being snotty!!! This has been a PSA.


	9. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer that Richie will never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a second playlist for this fic that is linked to this chapter, you can listen to it here! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5O10rCKwHFZiN91MFLRdut?si=Waq-SqfmSVO3dRDdKAr-BA 
> 
> Here is the song list: 
> 
> Wild Is the Wind - David Bowie  
> Love me Tender - Elvis Presley   
> Tungs - The Frights  
> I Want to Know What Love Is - Foreigner  
> Soul Love - David Bowie   
> Word on a Wing - David Bowie  
> I Just Do - Dear and the Headlights   
> Sweet Avenue - Jets To Brazil   
> Close to Me - The Cure   
> While My Guitar Gently Weeps - The Beatles   
> Lover, You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley   
> Love - John Lennon 
> 
> I know that a good amount of them don't fit with the time line of the fic, but I decided that I don't care.

June 5th

Summertime was the best time in Richie’s mind. Rest and relaxation, without the stress of classes and exams getting in the way. And though this summer had only just begun, and it was already the best one ever. Eddie, Bev, and Ben had stayed back in the house with him. Bev had been the first one to announce she planned to stay, and Ben naturally followed suit, Eddie then came forward, Richie had expected it too, because Sonia was Sonia and Eddie wanted to enjoy his summer. Richie stayed because he also wanted to enjoy his summer, and felt he couldn’t if Eddie wasn’t in town.

Bill, Stan, and Mike all went back to Derry. Bill because he wanted to spend time with Georgie, and Stan and Mike had summer jobs there. But it wasn’t like they wouldn’t visit, in fact they planned to come back every weekend they could.

The four of them all found jobs in town, Richie found a job working for their local movie theater, it was fun because his coworkers were cool and there was an arcade there, they played dance-dance revolution when they had free time, and Richie got free movie tickets. Eddie got a job at an auto-supply shop, because he was into that sort of thing. Richie admired him for it, and honestly kind of got off to the idea of Eddie one day being a mechanic, in the blue jumpsuit with the sleeves rolled up, covered in grease and sweat and all around disheveled.

Eddie had been interested in cars for as long as Richie could remember, his late father had been into cars, and that was something they bonded over. It warmed Richie’s heart to think about it, how Eddie and his dad would tune into the Nascar races and how Frank Kaspbrak would thumb through a car magazine with his son on his lap, Eddie pointing at the pictures and asking questions about the ones he thought were cool.

Bev got a job at their local grocery store, which was nice because they got a discount on groceries and Ben got a job at the campus bookstore, which was nice because they got a discount on books. Ben had come home with a five-thousand-piece puzzle on his first day. They all worked on it during their free time, and in fact that’s where Richie and Eddie were now.

Eddie hovering above the table, grouping together pieces that seemed to be the tree trunks, while Richie sat, trying to piece together the boarder of the puzzle. The puzzle was meant to be a sort of _summer project_ , something for them all to work on when they were bored, or had free time. Bev and Ben were at work, and Richie and Eddie had nothing better to do, so here they were, deep in concentration, making almost no progress because of how _massive_ and daunting the puzzle was. They made probably _four_ connections in the time since they sat down to work on it.

“I’m getting frustrated.” Eddie said, sitting down in his chair and releasing a sigh of frustration.

“Well, when you get frustrated, I get frustrated, so I think we should stop.” Richie said in a lazily amused sort of tone.

“What should we even do today then?” Eddie asked, pushing the pile he was working on towards a spot on the table further from the edge, officially calling it quits on the puzzle.

“I don’t know, want to go fake shopping? That’s always fun.” Richie suggested, it was a concept that Bev had come up with, when they were out one day and she wanted to go and look at a new furniture store that had just opened up. It had evolved to them going to car dealerships, pet stores, and even best buys, looking at video game consoles and television sets.

“It’s depressing sometimes though.”

“Yeah…” Richie said, agreeing. “How about we check out some used cars?”

“They’re not going to have anything.” Eddie said, being a total downer and denying everything because he’s annoyed from being cooped up in their house with no air conditioner in the heat of early June.

“But if they do, you’ll never know because you were too busy being crabby at home all day.”

Eddie has had his eye out for a car for a while now, deciding that he was satisfied with the chunk of money he had set aside for one. He wanted something nice, that he didn’t have to lease. Something sturdy and big that had a good engine and a bunch of other gibberish that Richie couldn’t begin to understand about cars.

“You’re right…” Eddie sighed, staring off through their sliding glass door into the heat of the sunny day.

It was gorgeous outside, Richie was eager to get out of the house and enjoy it, and he knew Eddie needed out as well. He was beautiful sitting across from him, in a loose tank top and running shorts, cheeks and nose more prominently freckled with the refreshing sunny weather. He hadn’t bothered to do his hair or anything, so it was tousled and soft from his morning after-shower run.

They sat in silence for a minute, Eddie admiring the outdoors and Richie admiring his boyfriend, stunning and sun-kissed.

“Can you believe this is our first summer as a couple?” Richie said, giddy that he could call the man across from him his.

Eddie shot him his beautiful closed mouth smile, plump lips smirking, dimples creasing into his skin and his eyes squinted lovingly.

“You’re such a sap.” Eddie said, amusedly shaking his head.

“A sap for _you_.” Richie teased, leaning on the table.

Eddie laughed and stood up, stretching a bit. “Come on, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Let me get my shoes.” Richie said before scurrying upstairs. “You should grab your checkbook, what if todays the day!?”

“I doubt it.” Eddie said, sitting on the stairs to tie on his own shoes that he kept by the door, the adorable Nike’s that Richie bought him for Christmas. A little worn and off white now for how frequently he wore them.

Richie acknowledged the fact that Eddie had not followed him upstairs to grab his checkbook, so he decided to grab it for him, he had a good feeling about today and wasn’t about to deal with the hassle of having to drive all the way back home to get it.

With his keys, wallet, and Eddie’s checkbook shoved into the pockets of his shorts he was ready to go, slipping on his sneakers on the way out of his room and running down the stairs, tossing Eddie the keys and following him out the door.

They drove to one of the dealerships they frequented in a few towns over, they’ve been there a few times, on days like this, it was usually their first stop, walking through the massive lot of cars looking into a possibility for a few minutes then ultimately moving on because there was a detail about the car that Eddie didn’t like.

Richie knew how much this decision meant to Eddie, cars were always something he cared about, something he admired, he was pretty much a _car guy_. Like how Richie was a _music guy_ Eddie was a _car guy_. They all had obsessions and quirks, and Eddie’s just meant a bit more because of the times he shared with his father. He never really talked about it, but Richie knew that had a factor in it. He wanted to get something that his father would like just as much as him. He never said this out loud, because talking about his dad made him frustrated, but Richie knew, so he was patient.

The lot had changed a bit since they were here last, many of the cars had apparently sold, and the ones that didn’t had a massive price reduction. Richie was happy to see that they had more to choose from.

They weaved through the rows of cars, but Eddie didn’t seem to be too interested in most of them. Richie had a pretty good idea of what he was looking for and none of these cars were really it. He was looking for something large, but _not a truck_ , something with attitude, but _not too much_. There was a night a few weeks ago when Eddie was thumbing through a car magazine, Richie got him to point out ones he liked and emphasized the ones he didn’t. Richie took as many mental notes as his brain would allow him to remember, not a sedan, not a truck, bright colors, but nothing neon, something boxy, but not too round…

They were only about half way through the lot when Richie’s eyes started to wonder past the wimpy sedans they were weaving through, towards the line up closer to the building, cars that were more of the ‘front and center’ of the lot, cars that the dealership wanted to highlight. He spotted what seemed to be a bright red Jeep of some sort and he felt it tweak his interest, it _seemed_ to have a satisfying amount of attitude… and it was definitely a bigger car, and not a _truck_ so…

“Hey Eds.” Richie said, still looking off into the distance at the car, as if to see if he’ll notice something that’ll change his mind about it, or a deciding factor as to whether or not the car was good.

“What?”

“How about that one?” Richie pointed at it.

“Oh.” Eddie said, as if surprised that it was there.

“Are you interested in that one?” Richie asked, clarifying what he thought Eddie was getting at.

“I mean… yeah…” Eddie said, walking towards it. “I’ve been thinking about a Jeep, but that one is probably out of my price range.”

“I’m sure you could talk him down… he knows us well enough at this point.” Richie said, referring to the owner of the dealership, a guy they’ve talked to on more than one occasion.

“Slow your roll, we don’t even know if I want it yet.”

When they reached the car, they found that the price was only a couple hundred outside of his budget, so Richie was very intrigued, and Eddie seemed to be too.

Upon closer inspection the car was a two door, but it had two rows of seats, connected, without a center console. Richie didn’t really know what to look for like how Eddie did, who was circling the car, bending at each tire, doing something with a coin. Running his hand along the bottom rim of the car, seemingly checking for something there too.

“What are you doing with the coin?” Richie asked.

“Checking the wear of the tires.”

“Oh okay… what’s the final verdict then?” Richie asked.

“They’re pretty worn, I’ll have to get new ones eventually.”

“So, you’re thinking about buying it?”

“I don’t know yet…” Eddie pocketed the coin and took a few steps back, admiring the car from afar.

Richie moved to stand next to him, to also admire the car. It was a pretty nice-looking car, there wasn’t any rust or dents, or chips in the paint. Whoever owned it last must have taken pretty good care of it.

The owner of the dealership must have noticed them pull in, because he then came out of the building.

“Hey guys, something spark your interest finally?” He asked, teasing about the fact that they’ve been there multiple times, looking for a while and ultimately leaving empty handed.

“Maybe.” Richie joked.

“Well this here is a pretty nice one, young man traded it in last week, I was surprised with the condition he kept it in.”

“Do you know how many miles it has?” Eddie asked.

“I believe around sixty-thousand, I could be wrong, if you’d like you can test drive it and see for yourself.” The guy said, he was super nice and gave Richie the vibe of someone’s sweet grandfather.

Eddie looked to Richie as if to seek an answer. Richie just nodded encouragingly.

“I’ll be right back with the keys… you boys feel free to hop in and check out the inside.”

“Thank you Tim.” Eddie said then, always being the guy to remember everyone’s names.

Tim then disappeared back into the building.

Richie was first to open the driver’s side door, the car was so clean one would think it was brand new, the leather of the seats was back and glossy, matching to that of the steering wheel, the radio was the first thing Richie looked at, and was relieved to see that it had at least cassette capabilities.

Eddie came up next to him and checked something under the wheel, getting more technical with his inspection than Richie.

“What are you thinking Spaghetti-man?” Richie asked, ruffling his hair a bit.

“I don’t know yet!” Eddie said, though he was grinning and seeming to like car so far at least.

Richie hopped in first, running his hands along the wheel.

“This is a nice-looking car Eds.” Richie said. “And a nice-looking guy, needs a nice-looking car.”

“Shut up weirdo.” Eddie laughed, and smacked Richie’s thigh. “Scooch your ass, let me get in.”

Richie scoot to the passenger’s side of the seat, and Eddie hopped in, slotting behind the wheel and looking like he belonged there. He leaned every which way, looking for flaws or anything that struck an alarm, but he didn’t seem to be finding anything.

“This car looks brand new.” He said.

“I know, its almost like another neat-freak, hypochondriac, germaphobe owned it before you.” Richie said teasing.

That earned him a playful punch on the arm.

Tim came back then with the keys, and stayed while Eddie started it up. He gave them directions to a local highway, and they were on their way. Richie had a goofy smile on his face as they were driving off the lot, Eddie looked happy too, though he was trying not to show it. His lips were pulled together slightly, and his eyes were squinted, the apples of his cheeks gave him away.

“So… what do you think?” Richie asked, fucking with the glove compartment.

“It drives well so far…” Eddie said.

“You can be excited you know… you look like a dork trying not to smile.” Richie teased.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s impulsive to buy this car today?”

“Not at all, you’ve been looking for months!”

“Yeah, but like not at _this car…_ ”

“Eddie, if you don’t buy this car today, someone else will, and this is an awesome car! _And_ you like it!” Richie urged.

“I didn’t even bring my checkbook… and its like two hundred bucks over budget.”

Richie tugged Eddie’s checkbook out of his pocket and tossed it onto the dash dramatically. “You said it yourself, you could probably talk him down.”

“Fuck… am I going to do this today?”

“Yes.” Richie laughed.

They merged onto the highway, and a huge smile spread onto Eddie’s face, even Richie could tell that the acceleration of the car was good.

“I don’t think I’ve ever driven a car that accelerated that smoothly.” Eddie said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever _been_ in a car that accelerated that smoothly.”

They merged off of the highway after a bit, only to pull into a nearby parking lot. Eddie left the car running and hopped out, opening the hood to take a look at the engine. Richie hopped out too, to see what he thought about it.

“How’s she look doc, everything up to code?”

“And you call _me_ a fucking dork.” Eddie laughed and continued to examine the engine.

Richie had no idea what exactly Eddie was checking for, but it seemed to be going well. He bent peered over something towards the back of the engine and fantasy struck Richie like a ton of bricks, Eddie bent over the engine of his car, on a hot ass day with his sleeves rolled up, or even off all together, grease across his cheek and covering his hands, holding a wrench and doing some important mechanical work that Richie could never begin to understand.

“You look good like that.” Richie pointed out when Eddie leaned over the car more.

“Shut up pervert.” Eddie teased, then he stood back and put his arm through Richie’s. “I feel crazy…but I think I’m going to buy it.”

Richie re-positioned himself so his arm was looped around Eddie’s shoulder, cupping the back of his head.

“Well then let’s get the fuck back there so we can get this show on the road.” Richie said before leaning to press their lips together, something that felt so natural to him now, he didn’t even bother a look over his shoulder to keep an eye out for onlookers.

“We should check if everything else is good before I _really_ decide though.” Eddie said, dropping his hold on Richie and going back around to the driver’s side of the car.

They put the front seat down, to check if it works to get into the back seat. All the lights in the car worked and the back seat was just as pristine as the front. The trunk was _massive_ and images of drive-ins and day trips to the lake flashed through Richie’s head.

Everything about the car was amazing and Eddie was pretty much in love with it by the time they pulled back onto the lot. He rehearsed with Richie the plan as they drove, Eddie would recite something about how he’ll need to purchase new tires and something for the engine to get the price down, while Richie acted like he was looking at more cars in the lot outside, to throw Tim off of his game and make him doubt if they would buy at all. It was a good plan and Richie was eager to see it play out. He decided in his head that if Tim didn’t go through with it, he would cover the extra couple hundred, he just wanted Eddie to have a car to call his own and he loved seeing him _love_ this car already.

When they pulled back into the lot, Richie gave him a high five before they parted ways getting out of the car. Eddie yanking the keys from the ignition and grabbed his checkbook off the dash before walking inside the building. Richie got to work acting like he was considering other cars in the lot, opening doors and even sitting in a few, really trying to sell the act. He wanted to know what was going on in that damn office _so bad_ , but another part of him wanted to be surprised. His heart was pounding, and he decided that it was a side affect of being so in love with Eddie. He figured that Eddie’s was probably going the same rate, a rush of adrenaline flowing through him as he talked price with Tim inside, fighting a sophisticated business battle for his dream car. Richie hoped that _his own heart_ was taking some of the slack off of Eddie’s, hoped that his was taking some of the load off so Eddie’s palms didn’t grow sweaty and his words wouldn’t get jumbled. He could keep his cool that way with Richie’s heart working double time, so Eddie’s didn’t have to.

He had been seated in a massive truck when Eddie finally did come out of the building, poker face on and fists clenched, Richie hopped out of the car as fast as he could, almost falling do his death for how fucking _high up_ it was. He rushed through the dusty graveled lot to meet Eddie halfway. He couldn’t read his face at all which was unusual for him, because he could usually read Eddie like a book. When they were close enough, Richie’s eyes darted between each of Eddies, brown pools of unreadable emotion.

“So?” Richie asked, more nervous sounding than he would have liked.

Eddie broke his act, elated smile grinning across his expression, his fists unclenched to reveal the keys he could now call his. Richie looked to the keys then looked back at his boyfriend, so happy and excited, pearly white teeth gleaming in the sun.

“Holy shit!” Richie cheered before Eddie broke into an excited laugh and Richie swept him off his feet, twirling him in a circle and hugging him close.

“Richie put me down!” Eddie laughed, his arms tight around Richie’s neck.

“Holy shit Eddie you bought a car! You bought your fucking car!” Richie was so fucking happy he felt like crying. He set Eddie on the ground and pulled him into a tight embrace, it was hot and sticky because of how brutal the heat was, but neither of them seemed to care.

“I know!” Eddie laughed into his neck. “I did!”

“I’m so fucking happy for you Eds!” Richie said, squeezing him tighter and ignoring the tears prickling his eyes.

Eddie must have sensed the waver in his voice because he snuck a glance at Richie’s face then.

“You’re such a big sap…” Eddie said, thumbing the tears on Richie’s cheeks and planting a kiss there before pulling him back into an embrace.

“I can’t help it! I just love you so much and I know how much it means to you!”

“Stop you’re going to make me fucking cry! We still have to go back in there to get my paperwork and shit.” Eddie laughed then and pulled away from Richie to wipe away more of his tears.

“Okay, okay…” Richie said, gaining his composure by taking deep breaths.

As they walked inside, Tim was working through some paperwork, Richie sat down in one of the waiting chairs and Eddie handed him a water bottle that was half empty, Richie thanked him. He worked his way through the water as Eddie went through the paperwork with Tim, he pointed out places in which he was to sign and made a few copies, then he filled out the temporary license and they all went back outside to screw it onto the car.

They exchanged a glance as Tim fastened it, Eddie beaming so brightly, thrilled to own this car that so perfectly suited him, Richie so affected by Eddie’s emotion, with the power of his love and affection combining.

* * *

Eddie’s car was perfect, perfect for their late-night drives into the sunset, through winding roads of rural Maine, bathed in golden rays, fading to capture a starry dark blue sky. Existing with each other, with windows rolled open to enjoy the chilling breeze complimenting the sunset. Sharing glances that lasted only moments, tearing eyes away to draw attention to the road, gone were the days of these glances being awkward and unacknowledged, gone were the days of silence when it came to their love.

Their nights for the past few weeks had been like this, driving out to enjoy the sunset, listening to the mixtape that Richie had put together for their drives, twelve songs that complemented their love for each other entirely. Scrawled on the label ‘R+E’.

The list had been one Richie had considered since Christmas, all of the songs that he resisted the urge to add to the one he made for Eddie so many months ago. When their love was the only secret they kept from each other, and glances were awkward unacknowledged, silence filling the space in which their love was supposed to be shared.

Drives together like this were relaxing and safe, the road they drove was silent, and Richie sometimes would lay on the seat and put his head in Eddie’s lap, it was dangerous, sure, but he didn’t care. He needed that intimacy and craved Eddie’s touch. Eddie had been nervous about it at first, but eventually he started combing his fingers through Richie’s soft curls as he drove, fanning out across his lap. Richie would turn his head and kiss against the soft bare skin of Eddie’s thigh, warm and tanned with the sun.

Moments like this, so simple and sweet, were what made Richie melt. Were what made him fall deeper in love with the man behind the wheel. Songs chiming the anthem of their love, poetry in the lyrics drawing more cracks in his heart in which his love seeped and made him go liquid for Eddie’s touch.

_“Now all these tastes improve  
Through the view that comes with you  
Like they handed me my life  
For the first time it felt worth it, like I deserved it”_

  * Sweet Avenue _(Jets to Brazil)_



_“It's never over, all my riches for her smiles_ _  
When I slept so soft against her  
It's never over,  
All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter  
It's never over”_

  * Lover, You Should Have Come Over _(Jeff Buckley)_



Sometimes Richie cried, the idea of having Eddie like this, just so pure and unbelievable. _‘I won’_ the thought to himself… even if Eddie wasn’t his forever… he had him now, and he thought that’s all he needed. Getting the opportunity in life to love Eddie like this, so soft, so genuine, was enough of a thought alone to prickle his eyes with tears, toothy grin on his face. He was just so fucking happy.

* * *

June 26th

They were into late June now, and the puzzle had progressed about a third of the way through, the boarder most of the way done, and the tree-line pieced together almost entirely. They were all crouched around it, Bev sitting on the table with her legs crossed, crouching over the puzzle to fit together pieces from a bird’s eye view. Ben, Eddie, and Richie in chairs, some kneeling some seated working on parts of the puzzle closest to them.

It was hot as _fuck_ , so they had all of the windows open, wire fans were in just about every room of the house. They all wore their own version of shorts and a tank top, Bev even helped Richie tie his hair back. They all sat there, sweating and drinking iced water and doing their puzzle. It was a random Tuesday in which they all had work off, and they were trying to figure out what to do with their found freedom.

“We could go to the farmers market.” Bev suggested.

“Too hot for that.” Richie said, the mere thought of walking around outside in this heat made him want to complain.

“How about going to the pool?” Ben suggested next.

“Too many germs.” Eddie said quickly. “Piss, Band-Aids, and boogers are not how I want to spend my afternoon.”

“Man… the pool sounds great right now.” Richie said fanning himself.

“You go right ahead, but I am not touching you until you shower like four times, that shit is so fucking disgusting.”

“Never mind then, it’s not worth it…” Richie laughed.

“Why don’t we get out own pool.” Bev suggested.

“I wish we had money for that.” Richie said, dramatically resting his head on the table.

“We don’t need a big ass one, we could just get a small one, and a tarp so we can make a slip n slide.” Bev explained.

“I’ll get my keys.” Eddie said, standing.

Ben fished his wallet out of his pocket and fished out whatever cash was in there, Richie stood as well and chased Eddie after he took the cash from Ben.

“I’m coming too.” They walked up the stairs, Richie to retrieve his shoes and Eddie to retrieve his keys.

“Get popsicles too!” Bev yelled from the library.

Not thirty minutes later, they were at the store, staring at their options of pools, eventually settling on a blow up one, rectangular and seemingly small enough to fit on their porch, leaving them with ample yard space for their slip n slide. Before they left, they grabbed the biggest tarp available, stakes to hammer into the ground, a cheap bike pump, dish soap, and a pack of cherry popsicles.

When they arrived home, Bev was wetting her hair with cold water from the hose on the porch while leaning back in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth.

“Damn, I bet that feels fucking amazing.” Richie laughed and set the bags down on the ground before lighting his own cigarette.

“Fuck yeah it does.”

He held the cigarette between his lips as he tore the box containing their pool open. Blue and white rubber folded so tightly fell onto the porch and Bev helped lay it flat. Eddie joined them outside after putting their popsicles away in the freezer, Ben came out too, and he and Eddie got to work setting up the tarp in the lawn.

Richie pumped the bike pump as fast as he could, blowing up the ring closest to the ground so Bev could start filling the pool with water. They all worked as fast and as efficiently as they could, so desperate to relieve themselves of the heat and enjoy the summer like they were twelve again.

Eventually, Eddie and Ben finished nailing the tarp into the ground and joined them on the porch. They pulled up chairs and sat with their feet in the water as the pool filled up. Richie finished filling the pool with air and was embarrassingly sweaty and out of breath.

Bev set the hose down in the pool, to fill it as she left to disappear inside. Sweat dripped down Richie’s forehead causing his glasses to slide down his face with the perspiration. The water looked so nice, cooling, and inviting.

“Fuck it I can’t wait anymore.”

Richie stepped into the pool and sat down in the water; it was so refreshing it was almost orgasmic. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he settled more into the water.

“Richie you’re wearing _jean shorts!_ ” Eddie’s voice was shrill.

“I don’t fucking care.”

He lay down in the water, a cool rush of relief engulfing his back and neck, scalp no longer boiling beneath his black curls.

“You’re going to get chafe!”

He thought hard about what this mornings choice of underwear had been before unbuttoning his shorts, deciding that dark blue boxers could reasonably pass for swim trunks for onlooking neighbors. He slipped off his shorts and tossed them out of the pool, towards the house, hearing them smack against the wood of the deck.

“Now I won’t.” Richie laughed and took off his tank top before laying back down in the water.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Bev came back outside with popsicles for each of them, she passed them out and sat down in the pool with Richie.

Richie sat up and leaned against Eddie’s knees, who sat in a chair scooted up to the lip of the pool with his feet in the water. As Richie ate his popsicle, red stickiness dripped down his hand, a product of the scorching heat. They chatted and relaxed with each other. Lazily eating their popsicles and now _enjoying_ the weather outside.

Once the pool was filled Eddie and Ben joined them in the water, Eddie in only a pair of his running shorts, slotted into the corner of the pool with his arms draped over the sides. He looked like a dream, glistening in the rays of the sun, entirely relaxed and content in the relief of the refreshing water on this scorcher of a hot day.

“This was such a good idea.” Richie said.

They all nodded at their own pace. Bev sighed and sank deeper into the embrace of the water.

“This summer has been like one long double date hasn’t it?” Richie said then, a random thought that came to his head from admiring the three who shared the pool with him.

“Yeah I guess it has.” Bev chuckled.

“It might be fun to actually go on a double date.” Ben said. “Like to the drive in or something.”

“Yeah that would be fun.” Richie agreed.

Eddie seemed to be too blissed out to say much of anything, eyes closed as he bathed in the sun.

Relaxation quickly turned into boredom for Richie, he was getting antsy and could only wade his hands in the water so much. He stepped out of the pool and leaned to blow a raspberry into Eddie’s unexpecting cheek before grabbing the bottle of dish soap and scurrying down the deck stairs.

He squirt probably _way too much_ of the dish soap onto the tarp, that was hot as _fuck_ beneath his feet from the sun beating down on it. He dropped the bottle of soap somewhere in the grass before going back up onto the deck to spray the tarp with the hose.

Eddie came up behind him then, tugging the hair tie out of his hair and letting his wet curls fall around his face and neck. He blew a raspberry into the back of Richie’s shoulder which caused him to jump and slink away a bit, giggling all the while.

“Here, you do this.” Richie said, shoving the hose into Eddie’s hands and running down the stairs again.

He ran to the tarp and flopped to the ground just in time to slide across it, straight onto the grass. Eddie had followed his path with the hose, thumb at the nozzle, causing the water to spew in a tight stream onto Richie who was trapped in a fit of laughter on the ground.

Bev came running down next, sliding on her stomach right into Richie on the ground, they both laughed and cheered. Richie stood up and helped Bev to her feet, they tried to walk along the tarp, slipping and sliding.

Eventually, the jet of water was gone, and Eddie was running full speed towards the tarp, sliding into a sort of baseball slide right in between Bev and Richie. Ben sprayed them for a minute before joining in on the fun as well.

They all slipped and slid around the tarp, Ben spinning Richie around on the ground by his ankles at one point, and Bev making a snow angel in the suds from the soap. Eventually they figured out that it was _really fun_ to do relay races, someone sitting at one and of the tarp, holding out their hands as the others raced towards them, the goal of course being the first to high five the person sitting down. Most of the time someone slipped and fell, and some of the time they couldn’t even make it to the person at the end because they were laughing too hard over it.

It was a great time, and by the end of it they were covered in suds and looked like they all just took a massive bubble bath. The sun was setting by the time exhaustion caught them all. To end the day, they all lay on their backs and used what was left of the soap to blow bubbles with their hands and watched as they glimmered in the setting son, floating up, up, far away from here.

* * *

Richie was cold, well, he couldn’t tell if the feeling was _cold,_ or if the feeling was despair… wet, cold, clammy despair. Because of where he was.

He didn’t know _how_ he got there, or _why_ he got there… just knew that they had a goal and that they were all together again… Bill, Mike, Stan, Bev, Ben, Richie, and… Eddie. They were in a cave, or was it a tunnel?

Wherever they were, wasn’t familiar at all. Though he knew they had a goal, to defeat… something… or someone. Everything was vague and unclear, but at the same time so much daunting pressure lay on his shoulders, _we have to defeat it… there’s no going back now… we’re here and we have to do it_.

It was dark, cold, scary and foreign… fear painted the faces of those he loved so much… he felt their expressions were almost a mirror image of his own. Because his friends were there… Mike, Bill, Stan, Ben, Bev… and Eddie. He knew they were scared, but he didn’t know of what. He knew that for his friends to be _so terrified_ he knew they were in danger, and Eddie was _right fucking there_ …

He wanted so desperately to grab his hand and run as far away from this place as he could, but where would he even go? He had no idea where the fuck he was, but he knew it was far from anywhere _safe._

Everything but their fear was a blur, flashes of their faces in his vision, screaming about _something no one knew the name of_. _‘Get it Bill!’_ and _‘Bev look out!’_ Richie’s eyes darted all around, terror ripping through his senses.

He didn’t know what to look out for, he didn’t have a weapon, or a clue as to what to do if whatever they were afraid of came anywhere near him. All he could do is _watch_ , watch as his friends wept with fear, Mike screaming some incantation Richie couldn’t make out in the echo.

Then, he was on the floor, cold hard ground against the back of his head, aching, pounding as if he’s just taken a fall. He heard yelling and he couldn’t make out who it was. His hands brushed against the cold ground and he blinked hard, trying to come to his senses and decipher what the fuck was happening.

Suddenly Eddie was there with him, straddling his hips and cupping his face, giant goofy grin on his face that brought Richie entirely to his senses, something familiar, something comforting.

_‘I think I got it Richie!’_ He sounded so happy, so proud of himself.

His voice was foggy in Richie’s ears and it was hard for him to make out the rest of his words, he focused hard on his grin, his smile, his eyes, the face he loved so much and was so relieved to see it happy, a contrast to the despair and fear it held moments ago. Richie felt Eddie’s hands on his head and felt at home, felt safe in his touch. He had no idea what the fuck was going on and was scared to death of whatever they were trying to defeat. But _God_ , he felt safe here with Eddie on this cold, hard, ground.

Just as Richie was sensible enough to begin to return the smile, he thought he might never smile again. Because in that moment, his worst fear manifested.

Blood gushed from Eddie’s stomach, showering over him, overwhelmingly warm, so freshly alive. Eddie sputtering his name over him in a questioning tone… looking to him for an explanation ‘ _Richie…Richie… Rich—’_ blood gushing from his mouth now, pouring over his chin and onto Richie’s glasses and face.

_‘Eddie?’_ Richie asked then. He couldn’t breathe, he felt the fear and devastation suffocating him, a weight on his heart that felt permanent in that split second.

He gasped hitching breaths and struggled into sitting, Eddie falling onto his lap as his arms, still so alive clung to the fabric of Richie’s shirt. Richie’s hands now found Eddie’s face, so warm in his touch.

_“Eddie!?”_ He wailed.

Eddie’s eyes seemed to turn to glass, no longer connected with Richie’s in a firm gaze, now somewhere distant and still. Richie wiped the blood from his chin and sobbed.

His beautiful boy, his Eddie, his everything… gone. His beautiful expression painted with death and blood. Richie screamed at it, wailed at it, because it wasn’t him, it was vacant, it was empty of Eddie’s love, Eddie’s kind smile, Eddie’s happiness, Eddie…

Richie screamed because that’s all he felt he could do… screamed into his sobs as he clung to the face he couldn’t recognize anymore. So blank and vacant.

_‘Richie!’_ He heard Eddie yell, but he knew it wasn’t real because Eddie was gone, gone…gone…

He wailed and hugged him close.

_‘Richie, please!’_

He was suddenly aware of the weight of his eyelids and a pressure on his hips and shoulders. He was being shaken seemingly awake.

He opened his eyes, and was surprised to see light. There were two lights there though, the one at his bedside table, the lamp he had there had been turned on, and the one of his Eddie, above him, entirely alive.

Richie’s face was wet, and he could tell he was crying, uncontrollable sobs wracked through his body then, seeing Eddie so alive. Relief flooded his body, but at the same time the visual of him so… _dead,_ manifested behind his eyelids each time he blinked _._

Eddie looked scarred, terrified even, gripping Richie’s shoulders to the point he felt as if they were bruised, tearful expression so similar to the Eddie he saw moments ago, soft features turned foul with fear.

Richie reached out a hand and cupped his face, his vision was blurry with tears so he blinked them away and sat up a bit. Eddie’s expression softened a bit and Richie sat up entirely then, Eddie falling to sit on his lap rather than his hips.

Richie wrapped his arms around his torso, palms flat against the warmth of his back, face buried into the skin of his neck, his pulse strong against his cheek. He cried more there, so relieved that Eddie was alive, so happy that he was here.

“ _Richie… you wouldn’t wake up…”_ Eddie’s voice was wobbly now. _“Stop sleeping so heavily.”_ Eddie cried as he wrapped his arms around Richie, cupping the back of his head so comfortingly, Richie felt safe in his arms.

_“Baby what was that? You were so scarred!”_

Eddie never called him ‘baby’… only in moments so intimately theirs, making love, or late at night, drifting so softly into sleep. Moments Richie held so dear, moments he was able to love Eddie with every desperation his body had. The name sent him on a spiral, it brought him immediately to those moments with Eddie being so sweet and deserving of something more than Richie’s love alone.

Richie only clung to him tighter, breathing his scent in deeper, gripping desperately at the fabric of his shirt, notably _not_ soaked with blood and grime.

Eddie whispered sweetness into his ear.

_“You’re okay… it wasn’t real… you’re safe baby, you’re safe.”_

Richie focused on his words and on breathing away the tears. His grip on Eddie was relentless, the imagery of his dream still engraved in his memory, Eddie so lifeless and _gone_ …

When he spoke the only thing, he could say was Eddie’s name, through whispered sobs, wobbled with his tears. Each time he could utter his name, “ _I’m here Rich… don’t worry, I’m here sweetheart…”_

Eventually Richie had managed to calm himself down, just breathing against Eddie’s skin, arms held around him in a firm embrace as Eddie traced circles into his back and kissed into his hair. Richie got a taste of what losing Eddie would be, and he wanted no part. That pain he felt was so real… so vivid that he felt as if he would never be able to shake the sensation. The sensation of loosing him for good, never seeing that smile again, the twinkle in his beautiful brown eyes, his velvety voice and caring words mumbled against his skin so softly at night.

“I think you just had a panic attack.” Eddie mumbled into his hair.

Richie didn’t know how to respond, so he just hugged him closer, nosing against the skin of his neck.

“For me that was out of nowhere… but for you I bet it wasn’t. Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie said then, so sweetly and so real.

_“I don’t know yet.”_

“That’s okay.” Eddie kissed into his hair and wiggled out of Richie’s grasp a bit, taking his face in his hands. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just know I’m here okay?”

Eddie pressed a tender kiss against his cheekbones, and Richie blinked into it, engraving the sight of Eddie’s face into his vision, eyes so alive and deep with pools of the prettiest brown, cheeks flushed with life and his gaze so honest and searching.

“I’ll be right back okay?” Eddie said when he pulled away. “I’ll be two seconds, I swear.”

Richie nodded and watched him leave, his body craved for his return immediately, missing his warmth despite the heat, missing his touch despite the sweat. He lay back against the pillows and kicked away the blanket over his legs, cool air touching his bare skin, sweaty from his nightmare. He scoot closer to the wall and pressed his hand to it, something that used to help him calm down or find himself again. The comfort used to be that Eddie was on the other side, but now it was just the habit of it.

His hands found his face and rubbed at his eyes until they felt a dull soreness. He focused on the sound of Eddie shuffling around the house, he heard him come back up the stairs and stop at the bathroom across the hall, running the faucet and then finally coming back to him. Richie watched his every move, shuffling back into the room holding a glass of water and a damp rag.

Handing the glass to Richie, he sat down on the bed, crossing his legs and facing him. Richie sat up and drank some of the water before leaning and setting it down on the nightstand. Eddie’s hand with the cloth found Richie’s forehead, it was cold and damp, a refreshing sensation against his hot skin. Richie enjoyed the sensation, but felt weird about it, so he snorted a weak laugh.

“What!?” Eddie said, smiling at Richie’s laughter.

“I feel like a tuberculosis patient or something.”

“You’re hot and sweaty!” Eddie defended. “Doesn’t it feel nice?”

Richie nodded and smirked a bit.

Eddie smiled back and worked the cloth gently into his skin.

“I thought you were dead.” Richie said then, smile falling from his expression. His hand immediately found the spot on Eddie’s stomach, so much blood.

“Oh.” Eddie said.

_“There was so much fucking blood…”_ Richie whispered then, feeling warm tears come to his eyes again, in a new wave. His fingers caressed the spot on Eddie’s stomach, dry and warm, the rise and fall of his breathing against Richie’s fingers.

“Well that sure as hell wasn’t real, right?” Eddie said, leaning closer to Richie as he spoke, before sitting back to pull up his shirt, as if to prove it to Richie with his chest unharmed and completely intact. Not a drop of blood in sight. Richie allowed his fingers to find the spot again, just beneath his diaphragm. “See? I’m fine, we’re fine.” Eddie soothed, running the cloth along Richie’s hair line.

Richie smirked at him, he felt silly about the whole thing, but was so grateful that Eddie was so quick to comfort and show him that everything was okay.

“And fuck, I am going to have to make sure not to die before you because holy _shit_ you were _so upset_.” Eddie said, smirking at him a bit. “I mean I’ve seen you cry plenty of times, but never like that.” The smirk fell from his face, the experience of Richie being so distraught obviously having an affect on him. His face fell to a mild form of fear.

“Sorry…” Richie said.

“No don’t say that.” Eddie said, setting the cloth to the nightstand and moving closer to him.

Richie let his hand fall to Eddie’s thigh, Eddie’s hands found Richie’s chest, fiddling with his shirt.

“You really love me.”

Richie couldn’t believe what he heard, stated as if a conclusion, as if he didn’t _believe_ it all this time. Richie could only nod and squint at him, trying to better read the expression on his face in the blur of his natural vision.

He couldn’t see much but he saw his sweet smile, cherry tinted lips tugged up into a smooth smirk. Richie squeezed his thigh before running his thumb back and forth against it.

“I love you too Richie.”

* * *

July 18th

They were into the middle of July now, and things had changed in the house for the better. A few weekends ago Mike and Bill proposed to Richie and Eddie that they all switch rooms in the house, Mike and Bill had offered up the basement to Richie and Eddie.

Richie was thrilled, a space they could share entirely, no more wall, no more leaving the room to get something from the next. A space that expressed each of them, not just one or the other. Eddie was thrilled as well, after he clarified that Richie can no longer leave shit all over the ground. It was more than a fair trade. Richie cleaning up after himself, putting his clothes in his hamper rather than somewhere _near it_ , putting his guitars safely away on their stands rather than somewhere on the ground or against a wall. In return for it all, he got to share a space with Eddie.

Pushing their beds together, Richie felt sentimental, no more wall… no more separation… no more choosing rooms for the night, they were together no matter what, with the added aspect of more leg room. Moving was easier than they thought it would be, they got it all done pretty much _that_ weekend, Eddie taking his time pealing the posters off of Richie’s walls, being careful to not tear them. Richie carrying drawers of their dresser’s downstairs one at a time until Ben came to help him with the main event.

When it was all said and done, their new room was just how Richie imagined, his posters covered the walls, his guitars and music collection were on display, sure, but everything was _neater_ now. There wasn’t clutter all over their nightstands and dressers, everything had a place Richie liked that, because he could relate.

The basement was all around _cooler_ too, in every aspect of the word, nights were easier rested because of the temperature, but also because the rafters were exposed, and so was the cement floor. Richie liked it and Eddie had the idea to string fairy lights across the ceiling, so they did, and it was awesome. Richie would lay on his back in their bed, with his new acoustic guitar on his chest, gazing off at the twinkling lights over head as he played song after song for Eddie laying at his side.

They all chipped in and bought him the guitar for his birthday, it was a nice dark wood cutaway, with a rich tone. He loved it and reached for it whenever he didn’t want to play with his amplifier. Since getting the guitar, he’s learned more folk songs, John Lennon’s solo stuff was a favorite of his. Eddie liked to hear him sing along, and Richie liked watching Eddie listen to him, so it was a good trade off.

They even moved Bev’s keyboard into the basement too, she would play with him often now, they would play late into the night, until Eddie wanted to go to bed. Together they played a lot of David Bowie and Talking Heads once they fucked with the settings enough. Richie dreamed of one day buying Eddie a drum-set, smirking at the thought of him growing into it, getting better and better until one day he was playing as if it was second nature.

For now though, he just kind of sat and listened, everyone filtered in and out, Eddie and Ben, then Stan, Bill, and Mike even came down to listen when they were in town. It was fun, having them on the side, requesting songs or complimenting the ones they had already played, requesting them to go through it again.

It was especially fun when they would make up their own songs, always with strange time signatures and just quirky enough to really put their mark on it. Strange rests and accidentals where one wouldn’t find them in everyday music. It was rock meets folk meets jazz and they had a blast playing it.

Now a days, Richie would sit at the table and pluck at his acoustic as Bev, Eddie, and Ben worked on the puzzle. Fingers tapping against the wood of the table to the tunes they’ve grown to recognize. Summer nights like this were the best, a cool dry breeze running through the house through their opened windows, soft nostalgic seventies folk tunes billowing from Richie’s guitar, serenading his friends as they marinated in each other’s cherished company.

* * *

August 11th

It took a list of demands and accommodations to get Eddie and Stan to agree to a camping trip. It started as an idea spurred from a night of marijuana smoking, a blunt passed between Richie and Bev outside on the porch had been the tip off point of their spiraling fantasy of a camping trip in the wilderness with their favorite group of losers.

The idea started as a backpack camping trip in a forest, fending for themselves with supplies they had at hand, then once the idea had been brought to a more realistic set of minds, it morphed into something more reasonable. They then planned to rent a camping plot, setting up tents and cooking s'mores over an open fire in a designated fire pit. There had been special requests for showers and toilets, and a very extensive shopping list of supplies they needed to buy for said trip.

They planned the trip as they all sat around the dining room table, finishing up the puzzle that Ben had brought home so long ago. They were all pretty invested in it and brought up more ideas for the trip in between focused spurs of intently placing pieces into the few gaps that still existed there.

Richie couldn’t help but find symbolism in the puzzle. Them all together were a kind of puzzle, he felt whole when they were all together, he felt more secure when they were all at the house and not spread out across the state of Maine. He felt a bit sentimental over the fact that they were all there, finishing up the puzzle together.

Though the trip wasn’t what Richie had initially had in mind, he was thrilled none the less. The camp site that Bill found had canoeing, rock climbing, something with birds that Stan was excited about, a massive lake and beautiful waterfalls. Eddie was excited too, mostly about the fact that there were showers and toilets close to their site on the campground.

They were to set out tomorrow morning, splitting up between Eddie’s Jeep, and Mike’s van. Each of the cars were packed with most of their things, a few tents and four massive family sized bottles of sunscreen were among the haul. Eddie made sure everyone knew that their skin was an organ and that they ‘ _better fucking take care of it before it’s too late.’_

Richie was so excited he could barely sleep, wiggling around in bed, tossing every which way, excitement burdening his consciousness, preventing him from succumbing to sleep despite how late it was. Eddie however, was fast asleep next to him, beautifully at rest on his stomach, his face turned towards Richie with his arm outstretched where it once was draped around him. Richie went from looking at him, to looking at the ceiling, then trying to close his eyes and shut his brain up, then thinking about how tomorrow he’ll be jumping in a lake and cooking s'mores around a campfire with the group of people he referred to as family, then his eyes were back on Eddie, and the cycle repeated. It wasn’t until four in the morning that Richie’s tossing and turning finally woke Eddie up, rubbing his eyes and sitting up a bit.

“ _’s everything okay?”_ Eddie mumbled, sleep drawing a deep tone on his voice.

“Yep.” Richie replied, as if it was two in the afternoon on a Saturday, cheery and oh so awake.

_“You haven’t slept.”_ Eddie sighed, falling down into his pillow again.

“Nope.”

_“Come here.”_ Eddie turned to his side.

Richie scoot closer and lay on his back next to Eddie who draped his body over his, sweetly nuzzling his face into Richie’s neck and combing gentle fingers through his hair, starting at his hair line and fanning his curls across the pillow beneath his head.

“ _Stop thinking and go to sleep.”_ Eddie whispered then.

Richie’s eyes had closed naturally, a response to the feeling of Eddie’s fingers raking through his hair combined with the darkness of the room.

“That’s a lot to ask from me.” Richie whispered back.

“Well don’t stop _thinking_ then, just think about something simple, and maybe even boring.” Eddie spoke so soft and velvet Richie felt his voice alone could probably bring him to that serene meditative state just before sleep. “Think about the clouds, or the beach… imagine you’re standing in the sand and you’re watching the waves crash into the shore…”

Richie timed the waves in his brain to the sounds of Eddies fingers through is hair and against the pillow.

“Look at all the tiny little clams disappearing into the sand when the waves draw back into the ocean…” Eddie’s voice sounded as if he himself was drifting off into sleep. “Count the seconds of your breaths… in for seven, hold for four, and out for five…”

Richie did just that, feeling his body relax and his heart rate slow. A gentle kiss to his shoulder was the last thing he felt before finally lulling to sleep.

“ _Richie…”_ A shake at his shoulder.

“Richie _…_ we have to leave in like twenty minutes… I can’t let you sleep any longer…” Eddie’s voice urged.

Richie groaned and rolled away from him, tugging the blanket up over his head.

“Come on you can sleep in the car.” Eddie said, tugging on the blanket now, pulling it off of the bed, leaving Richie cold and uncomfortable.

“I have your coffee upstairs already, just get some clothes on.” Eddie said, dropping the blanket back onto the bed and reaching for Richie’s glasses. “Come on before Stan convinces me to leave without you.” Eddie teased as he pushed his glasses onto his face.

Richie snorted and squinted at him. Eddie pinched his cheek and walked to their bathroom, to finish packing the rest of their toiletries. Richie sat up and rubbed at his eyes, yawning and wanting so desperately to fall back onto the pillows and sleep for another four hours.

“Can you come in here and brush your teeth so I can pack your toothbrush?” Eddie called from the bathroom.

Richie groaned and finally got out of bed, dragging himself into the bathroom and retrieving his toothbrush from Eddie. He leaned against the sink and continued to blink himself awake, rubbing at his eyes and yawning as he scrubbed the sleep off of his breath.

“You’re like a fucking child.” Eddie laughed.

“What?” Richie said around his toothbrush, crinkling his face along with the question.

“You were too excited to sleep last night so now you’re all sleepy and cranky.” Eddie teased and tickled his sides.

He was close enough now to smell that he was already wearing sunscreen, he also noticed now that he had fastened the sweatband that Richie had bought him so long ago on his forehead and matched it to a pair of white and red striped tube socks and his red running shorts. He even cuffed the sleeves of his off white tee shirt, his pair of sneakers that Richie bought him for Christmas completed the look.

“Shut up.” Richie replied before grabbing at Eddie’s hands to stop his tickling and leaning to spit into the sink.

“You look cute.” Richie said, kissing Eddie’s cheek before leaving the bathroom to put on his own set of clothes.

“Thanks.” Eddie finished packing up their toiletries. “Now hurry up and get dressed so we can hit the road.”

As Eddie left the room he leaned to press a kiss into Richie’s hair, who sat on the bed pulling on a pair of socks. Richie smirked at the kiss and waited until Eddie was completely up the stairs before making his next move.

He walked to his bedside table and opened the drawer, reaching towards the back for the little black velvet box he knew was there. He planted it safely into his pocket, surprised that Eddie hasn’t found it yet for how often they reach into that drawer.

The drive was all of two and a half hours. In Mike’s car up ahead, was Mike of course, accompanied by Bill and Stan as well as most of their tenting equipment and camping supplies. In Eddie’s car was him, Richie, Bev and Ben, they drove with most of the luggage and Richie’s guitar case.

Bev and Richie were the first to fall asleep, Richie laying across the seat, resting his head on his favorite pillow in the world, Eddie’s thigh, loving the smell of his skin and the softness of it against his cheek, his hand squished beneath it, feeling his weight and the way his inner thigh felt soft beneath the pads of his fingers. He wasn’t so much sleeping as he was resting his eyes and quite literally worshiping one of his favorite parts of Eddie. Loving the way his thigh flexed ever so slightly when he would shift his foot on the pedals.

Eddie paid him no mind except for his fingers of his free hand tangling into his hair, focused mostly on the road and keeping up with Mike’s car. Considering they had the map and an actual idea of where they were going.

As they drove they listened to a variety of tapes, most of which was the preppy dance music Eddie and Bev loved so much, hell even _Ben_ jammed to that stuff. Richie didn’t _like it,_ but he didn’t _mind_ it, mostly because it made his favorite people happy. When they started to yawn though, Richie popped in one of his current favorites, John Lennon’s “Imagine.” Drifting off into blissful peace with the honest folk tunes. Pressing his fingers against Eddie’s inner thigh as if it was the neck of his guitar, strumming along to the music in his mind.

Eventually they made it to the campsite, sitting up now, Richie saw how beautiful it was. They drove along the narrow path and saw the glistening lake through the thin tree line to their right. The road ahead was decorated in glimmering sunlight peeking through the canopy above. Richie was pleased that his and Bev’s original idea of roleplaying mountain men didn’t work out because he looked forward to canoeing, smores, and flashlight tag.

They pulled up to the lot they had rented out, it was basically a relatively large field, maybe about half the size of a football field, with a wooden picnic table, a grill, and a fire pit towards the center of it. About a five minute walk down the road were the bathrooms, and a fifteen minute walk in the other direction was the lake house with canoeing and kayaking supplies.

They all helped to unpack Mike’s car first, intention to set up their tents before doing anything else.

“Okay, I heard that you should put a tarp down first so that if it rains then the floor doesn’t get all muddy.” Eddie said to Richie as he lay a tarp down where their tent was intended to go.

“Well with that logic we should put another tarp on top of the tent right?” Richie teased.

“No dipshit, its supposed to be water resistant.” Eddie teased right back.

“Well tell that to yourself! Isn’t it all the same material?”

“I don’t fucking know! That’s just what the guy said!”

“What fucking guy!?”

“The guy at the store!”

Their bickering was playful, but it was really getting in the way of setting up their tent. Ben and Bev’s tent was already almost completely constructed across the field and Mike, Stan, and Bills, the biggest of the three tents, was seemingly well underway.

“We’re putting the tarp underneath, that’s the end of the story.” Eddie insisted, and got to work hammering it into the ground with stakes.

“Wait doesn’t the tent need to be staked down as well? Why don’t we just stake them down together, like with the same ones.” Richie said, unboxing the tent.

“Because the tent is _smaller_ than the tarp.”

“Well then how is it putting it underneath the tent going to work?”

They both paused with faces of contemplation, eyes darting from the tarp laid out on the ground to the tent still in the box.

“Why do we even have to stake it down? Can’t we just skip that step?” Richie asked.

“Because our tent will fucking _blow away!_ ”

“With what wind!? And if we have our shit in there it’ll weigh it down right!?”

“No! I-… I don’t know, we just have to stake it down okay!?”

“Well then how are we going to put the tarp under the tent!?”

They were both getting a little heated now, and Richie took a step back and found the whole situation kind of amusing. He snorted into laughter and Eddie did the same, dropping his head and tossing the hammer he was using to the grass as he laughed.

“Why don’t we fold the tarp in half?” Richie suggested.

“Because then the one side can’t be staked down.” Eddie explained, he was right because the holes just wouldn’t line up then.

“Okay… lets just work on the tent and see what happens.” Richie said continuing to unbox the tent. “If we figure out that the tarp isn’t happening under it then we can just get rid of it.”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, okay let’s get started.”

Eddie crouched and started reading the directions. Richie however, decided to start figuring it out for himself, in his own _hands on_ sort of way, unfurling the fabric and starting to click together the long black posts that he assumed were supposed to slide into the small sleeves that ran diagonally across the top of the tent.

“Richie slow down we don’t even know where that goes yet!” Eddie said, frantically reading the directions and smacking at Richie’s calf.

“I have a good enough idea.” Richie said, as he finished piecing together the second of the two posts, holding them each in his hands and waving them around in the air a bit. “Hey, we should take a break and have a sword fight with these.”

“Take a break from what!? We haven’t even started to put this shit together yet!” Eddie said, tossing the directions to the ground and picking up the bag of stakes and string intended for the tent.

It had been four o’clock when they started the whole ordeal, and five o’clock when they actually started to build the tent. It was a hassle and involved a _lot_ of arguing and bickering. They ended up actually figuring out a way to keep the tarp beneath the tent, though it was scrunched and folded together to accommodate for the size difference.

At some point in the middle of their building process, Bev had announced that they were going to start making dinner, yelling at them across the field while Richie was trying to untangle the black string that was some how supposed to tie down their tent. They had acknowledged her announcement and shared the feeling of envy over how easily they all put their tents together.

“Well I guess we lost that couples contest.” Richie joked.

“Its not really a contest if there’s only two couples.”

“Mike, Bill, and Stan are the best thruple in town, what are you talking about?”

Eddie scoffed a laugh. “They are not together.”

“They might as well be. For how often they all hang out and not date other people.”

“I’m surprised to be saying it, but you might be onto something.” Eddie laughed.

“I know right?” Richie laughed too and felt a sense of relief as he made some progress on the massive knot of string.

When they finally did get their tent set up, the entrance was facing the wrong way, and the tarp created a few creases on the inside that were deep enough to trip over. Neither of them felt like fixing it, worn out from even getting it set up to begin with.

“If all else fails, we could just sleep in the car.” Richie suggested as they carried their bags from Eddie’s car to the tent.

“You should have said that like an hour ago.” Eddie said, sounding defeated from putting so much effort into setting up the tent.

Richie could only laugh and loop his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in tight close to him, setting him off his footing a bit, causing Eddie to lean into the embrace and loop his arm around Richie’s waist as they walked.

“But I didn’t, because there’s no room to cuddle in the car.” Richie said into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie laughed and tightened his hold around Richie with his arm that wasn’t holding his suitcase.

“Plus, I feel like when we have sex it’ll be a lot more obvious in the car.”

“You’re disgusting.” Eddie laughed and pinched the skin on Richie’s side.

Richie yelped into his laughter.

They set their stuff down in their tent, unfurling their sleeping bags, Richie opened his suitcase to pull countless blankets out of it, throwing them around across the tops of their sleeping bags, in no particular order that obviously struck a chord of frustration for Eddie who deliberately placed two pillows where each of their heads were to go from his own suitcase.

Richie snorted and Eddie smacked his arm before leaving the tent to go eat dinner, Richie was close behind, breaking out into a run and smacking Eddie on the ass to get back at him as he rushed past. It resulted in a string of curses and a mad dash of Eddie close on his heals, because Eddie was a runner, and Richie _was not._

Eddie smacked the back of Richie’s neck and Richie was quick to snag his wrist, immediately slowing their pace enough to tug him to the ground. Richie fell onto the grass, which was softer than he had expected and tugged Eddie down to fall on top of him. Of which he did far more gracefully compared to Richie, falling into a straddle on his lap instead of clambering to the ground.

“What the fuck is this about?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know, the sun was just setting, and I wanted to watch.” Richie explained, positioning his hands to cradle his head.

“You’re going to get bugs in your hair and it’s going to be gross.”

“You can pick em out for me later, we’ll be like gorillas, our distant cousins.” Richie made monkey noises and poked at Eddie’s sides then, effectively tickling him.

Eddie laughed. “I’m not laying in the grass with you if that’s what you want.”

“That’s fine, I like you up here.” Richie held his fingers in ‘L’ shapes and acted as if framing Eddie’s head in his vision.

“And I like you down there.” Eddie crossed his arms and sat up a bit.

“Is that supposed to indicate something sexual? Because if so, I am _so down._ ” Richie said, hands falling dramatically to Eddie’s thighs, squeezing them and stroking his hands up and down.

“Is there a moment in your life when you’re not a horny mess?”

“Okay, we get it! You guys are in love, can you please come and eat so we can put the food away before the sun sets?” Stan interrupted, yelling across the field to where they were in the grass.

Eddie laughed and stood up to go join the rest of them, Richie stayed for a beat longer, out of spite, but also because the sky _was_ beautiful. A stunning meld of rich oranges, beams of golden yellow, and a dusting of dark pink to top it all off. It was framed in the circle of trees surrounding their camp site. A small capture of the great big fucking image that was the sky in the setting sun.

When Richie finally did join the group, he was handed a developing Polaroid from Bill, Richie smirked and thanked him, pocketing the picture and letting his fingers linger in his pocket for a second longer, brushing against the box that was still there.

When he and Eddie finished eating, they put the food away in a big red cooler, and returned it to Eddie’s trunk before continuing the night with their intended activities. Making s'mores around the fire, eating them until there was no more of any of the three ingredients. Which didn’t take long, because Richie and Bev made a game out of tossing marshmallows at each other over the fire, catching _surprisingly,_ most of them in their mouths.

The sun had officially set, and the stars were out, beautiful as ever in the summer night sky, not a cloud in sight to blemish the view. Mike pointed out a few constellations to them and they all stared in awe, reminded of how little they were in this giant universe, staring at stars that were mere specks to them, in actuality much larger than the earth they sat on.

“Damn I should go get the weed I brought.” Richie suggested, craving to accommodate his existential feelings with that of numbing bliss.

“Let’s do that tomorrow.” Bev said, gaze locked on the sky above.

“I look forward to canoeing while stoned off of my ass.” Richie agreed.

“I call canoeing with Stan!” Eddie said then, raising his hand.

“What!?” Richie said, surprised.

“I doubt your ability to keep a boat from tipping when you’re _sober_ let alone when you’re stoned.”

“Fine, then I call sharing with Bev.” Richie agreed.

“We can smoke _on the boat.”_ Bev said.

Richie laughed and nodded his head.

“You two are insane.” Eddie sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

Richie had pretty much quit smoking cigarettes about a month or so ago, breaking the habit, and only smoking weed when he had it, which wasn’t _that_ often, but you bet your ass he mooched some off of his coworker for their trip.

“I think you mean, ‘ _you two know how to have a good fucking time_.’” Richie corrected and Bev laughed in agreeance.

Everyone else laughed and groaned in their own ways. The night was beautiful, by the time they were all parting ways to either go to their tents or go to the bathrooms, there was dew on the grass, wetting their shoes and sticking little blades of cut grass on the toes of their sneakers.

Per Eddie’s request, they took off their shoes before entering the tent, crouching over each of their bags, Richie pealing off his shirt(s) and shoving them into a crevice before grabbing his intended pajamas for the night, a pair of loose basketball shorts, a fresh pair of boxers, and a random graphic tee shirt.

“We’re going to go shower.” Eddie said.

“No, _you’re_ going to go shower, I’m going to live out my mountain man fantasy and not shower for a week.”

“You’re fucking showering, or I’m sleeping in the car.” Eddie said, tossing a towel over his shoulder and one to Richie as well, he also flung a pair of flimsy rubber slides onto his lap.

“I guess I’m showering then.”

They laughed and stepped back into their shoes outside of the tent, Eddie carried a shower caddy of all of their showering necessities. They met up with Stan and Bev on the way, and they made the walk together, relying only partially on flashlights because the path was lighted pretty reasonably by the full moon alone. From where Richie could see it through the trees, the lake looked even prettier at night, glimmering in the moon beams.

“What do you guys say to a nighttime skinny dip?” Richie suggested.

“I say ye—”

“ _No!”_ Eddie interrupted Bev and grabbed Richie’s hand, as if to keep him focused on their task of showering and going to bed.

“Tomorrow night for sure.” Richie reassured himself and Bev, squeezing Eddies hand and swinging them between their bodies.

“For sure.” Bev agreed and accepted Richie’s offer of a high five.

Eddie and Stan groaned and scoffed in sync, which made them all laugh a bit.

When they finally did reach the bathrooms, they seemed to have the place to themselves, so Bev joined them in the men’s side, because what the hell, she was one of the guys.

There were only three shower stalls however, and Bev and Stan sure as hell weren’t sharing, so Eddie and Richie shared the larger handicap stall. The stalls were structured in two parts, two curtains in total, separating the shower itself from the changing portion. Eddie and Richie undressed and hung up their clothes, Richie kicking off his shoes and slipping off his socks before downing his pants and hanging them on the hook and waltzing towards the shower.

“Richie you’re going to get fucking _toe fungus! Put your fucking slides on!”_ Eddie shrieked; laughter echoed in the bathroom from Bev in the stall next door.

Richie giggled and slipped his slides on. “Shut up Bev!”

Eventually they were all showering, Richie making damn sure not to look at Eddie anywhere that would give his body any ideas, and instead sang whatever songs came to mind at the top of his lungs, and praising the fact that his vision was blurred with his lack of glasses.

_“_ _There's a city in my mind_ _, come along and take that ride, and it's alright! Baby, it's all right! And it's very far away, but it's growing day by day and it's all right! Baby, it's all right!”_ Talking Head’s, _The Road to Nowhere_ seemed to be a good fit because before singing along, Bev belted the saxophone part along to his vocals.

The next part they sang together, loud and proud in the giant echoey bathroom they had all to themselves. _“Would you like to come along_ _, you can help me sing the song, and it's all right! Baby, it's all right! They can tell you what to do, but they'll make a fool of you, and it's all right, baby, it's all right!”_

As they dried off and dressed they sang the rest of the song, and when they finished it they started from the beginning, effectively annoying Stan to the point of plugging his ears and standing as far away from them as possible in the line of sinks in front of one massive mirror. They all brushed their teeth and did whatever else they had to do involving skin care, which for Richie was just whatever moisturizer Eddie gave to him to put on his skin.

Eventually Richie was finished, and opted to involve the stomp of his foot and the clap of his hands in the off and on beats of the song, to keep time with their vocals and occasional riff of an instrument imitated with their voices. It was fun and Eddie seemed to be amused by it, so he kept it up. Bev danced and sang along as she massaged her creams into her face, sharing Richie’s love and appreciation for the song.

It was only when they were walking back to the campsite did the song actually start to make sense, Richie and Bev hand in hand walking behind Eddie and Stan holding flashlights and leading the way.

They swung their hands along to their tune. _“We're on a road to nowhere_ _! We're on a road to nowhere!  
We're on a road to nowhere!”_

Eventually they kind of grew bored of the song, Bev dropping Richie’s hand to shift her hold on her things and taking a deep content sigh. Richie continued to hum the song and release the occasional vocalization of the saxophone solo as he walked along. Soon enough, they were rounding the corner to their campsite, the fire was mere embers now, and Richie felt excited to finally be alone in the tent with Eddie, all cozied up next to each other beneath the stars, falling asleep to the sound of crickets and the crashing waterfall in the distance. They all parted ways towards their designated tents on different ends of the field, Richie and Eddie walking towards the left, Stan walking straight down the middle, and Bev going to the right.

When they reached their tent, they toed out of their shoes and crawled inside, Eddie releasing a content sigh of relief, seemingly happy to be clean and to finally be going to bed. Richie dug around in his book bag and found the tiny battery operated lantern they bought for the trip. He flicked it on and set it down somewhere behind him, making sure to be a visual barrier between Eddie and himself, digging through the pockets of his pants, pulling out the picture Bill had snapped earlier, temporarily avoiding the velvety box deep within.

The picture wasn’t the most professionally captured Polaroid in the world, it was a little blurry and had a few flairs of sunlight from the position of the camera in accordance with it, but it was beautiful none the less, because there was Eddie, perched on top of Richie, smiling down at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. And it warmed Richie’s heart to see the photo, so candid and genuine, neither of them expecting a photo at all. Richie sat back onto his ankles and gazed at the photo more, smiling at it softly.

“What’s that?” Eddie asked, already laying down on top of their pile of blankets and sleeping bags.

Richie smirked over his shoulder and handed Eddie the photo, Eddie sat up a bit to look at it better and immediately smiled. “Jeez, that’s how I look at you?”

“I know, am I not the luckiest guy in the world?” Richie asked, discreetly plucking the velvet black box from his dirty shorts and pushing it into the pocket of his current ones before laying down next to Eddie.

“No wonder everyone else knew we were in love…” Eddie laughed softly as he lay back down next to Richie. They both looked at the photo a bit longer before Eddie tucked it safely away into the mesh pocket next to his head on the wall of the tent, Richie stared at it for a beat longer through the black mesh and cherished the fact that they had a friend like Bill Denbrough.

“Hey Eds.”

“Yeah?” Eddie tipped his head towards Richie, face lit golden in the dim light of their wimpy little lantern. His eyes the beautiful dark pools of warmth they always were.

“We’re like…” Richie tried to figure out how he wanted to phrase the next part. “Each other’s… end game right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like if we _can_ ever get married…” Richie felt a tension in his throat at the thought of their marriage being illegal currently. “Hypothetically… would you marry me?”

“Well… yeah I would.” Eddie said, softly and ever so sweet, cotton candy was the word Richie would choose to describe the tone of voice he used then… light and airy, so sweet you could probably taste it in the air.

Richie paused for a minute to beam at him, eyes shifting from his beautiful face to the photo on the wall of their tent, Richie decided then, that what he once thought of as faults, were now beautiful, because their love really was a ray of sunshine. A beam of light overpowering whatever conflicts the world had set against them.

His hand shifted to his pocket, clasping the velvet box between his fingers, thumbing against the softness of it before pulling it out of his pocket. He felt his heart race and he didn’t know why, because he already had his yes, and it wasn’t even the _real thing_.

“Well… do you promise?” Richie said, corny as ever but still so sweet.

He opened the box and presented the ring to Eddie, an antique ring that caught his eye while out shopping with Bev one day. It was very old and worn, but still sleek and unique, it was a yellow gold with a stunning leaf engraving wrapping around the entire band to frame a genuine bezel set ruby. When Richie first saw it, it reminded him of the ring Eddie had worn as a kid so long ago, some gawdy plastic ruby ring they found in a cereal box during a sleep over at Richie’s house. It had fallen into Richie’s bowl and Eddie seemed to like it, and Richie was always one to do anything to see Eddie smile, so he gave it to him.

This ring, however, was a cleaner, more toned down version of that, the ruby wasn’t _nearly_ as big, it was a delicate oval shape, elongating with the circumference of the piece. Eddie sat up quickly, as if shocked, he was rendered speechless. Looking at the ring with a face of disbelief, flashing back to Richie, then returning to the ring.

“It’s just a _promise_ ring… but it’s a promise, that one day, I’m going to get you the real thing…” Richie sat up in front of Eddie as he spoke, still holding the box in front of him, in presentation. “Even if we’re eighty, and someone has to push me down the aisle in a wheelchair…” Richie laughed breathily with his words. Partially upset that it was very realistic to think that they _may_ have to wait that long.

Eddie looked at him with his sweet look, and took the box from his hand, holding it with both of his own, gazing at the ring now as if completely enamored.

“I want to marry you Eds. Even though we can’t right now… I know there’s a chance we could someday.”

Eddie’s smile flexed across his face. “Richie… you bought me a _ring…”_ His voice trailed with disbelief and breathless happiness. He spoke with genuine surprise, struck with awe and an overwhelming amount of joy and happiness.

Richie smiled at him and nodded. “I did.”

Eddie beamed at him through a laugh, and Richie returned it, plucking the ring from the box and grabbing Eddie’s right hand, sliding the cool metal down his ring finger, he smirked to himself at the thought of one day, doing this with his left hand. He released a sigh of relief when he found that the ring fit him perfectly.

“Richie I swear… I’m not making this up… you can ask Bill…” Eddie said, staring down at his hand still held in Richie’s. “I have been ring shopping for _you_.”

“No you haven’t.”

“ _Yes I have!_ ” Eddie said behind his goofy laugh. _“I swear, cross my heart, I have!”_

They both stared at each other, shocked, with opened mouth grins on their face and glimmers in their eyes.

“I love you so much.” Richie said finally, shifting his hands to cup around either side of Eddie’s head, thumbing across the portion of his face where his cheek meets his jawline, his eyes darting around his face, mapping its features.

“I love you too Richie.” Eddie said through his bright smile, hands holding Richie’s wrists.

Richie leaned and connected their lips, eager to kiss the smile that Eddie held there. He loved that with Eddie, a kiss was far more than just a kiss. With those before Eddie, it was just something to do with his mouth, it was fun and it was _arousing_ sure, but there wasn’t the spark that came with kissing Eddie. There wasn’t the flutter in his heart and the tingle on his lips and through his fingers where they held him. Their lips slotted together, swiping across each other in a silent sensual dance. Slick with saliva and fresh with toothpaste, tasting entirely bare of foreign sensation, tasting entirely individual and completely each other.

Eddie shifted and straddled Richie’s lap, smirk evident on his face as he grinded against Richie’s stomach as he slid down to sitting, Richie straightened his legs and let his hands travel over each soft curve and firm slope that Eddie had to offer.

_“Hey.”_ Eddie whispered as Richie kissed around his parted mouth. “ _You want to fuck in the tent?”_ Eddie’s whisper was everything from arousing to amusing.

Richie snorted and groped at his ass. _“Fuck yes.”_ Richie whispered against the skin of Eddie’s cheek. He felt the cheek flex and his dimple sink into it. He kissed him there, and Eddie tangled his fingers into his hair, holding his head steady to connect their gazes before running his parted and swollen lips along Richie’s. Not really kissing, more so _feeling_ , their eyes were open, traveling along each other’s features, Richie searching for constellations in the freckles dusting his cheeks, and admiring the peaks of his eyelashes, fanning together around his deep brown eyes.

“ _We can’t be messy…”_ Eddie whispered then, darker with more of a lustful tone, the arousing familiarity of it sent a chill up Richie’s neck, catching somewhere beneath Eddie’s fingers on his scalp.

Richie nodded against his cheek and kissed the softness of his earlobe before dipping his head a bit lower, pressing his warm lips against Eddie’s neck, taking a bit of the skin into his mouth, working at it. Eddie sighed into the sensation and ground himself against Richie, who couldn’t help the way his hips flexed and twitched in the moment, his body’s reaction to begging for more.

“ _I love it when you do that._ ” Eddie said, well more so _whispered_ behind his breathy laugh, jaded with arousal.

“ _Do what?”_ Richie murmured into he skin of his neck.

“You get all _twitchy_ and _eager_ like that.” Eddie giggled against his cheek, allowing his hands to explore Richie’s back and scalp as he sensually maneuvered his body on top of his lap. Sitting pretty with his back arched, chest pressed against Richie’s as he kneaded at his ass, long fingers squeezing and massaging him through his clothes.

“Well I’m always just _dying_ to fuck you Eds.”

“ _Fuck, I love it when you call me that…_ ” Eddie said then, his voice was somewhere between a whine and a stage whisper. Richie kissed around his parted mouth, nipping and licking at his swollen lips.

Richie’s hands slipped beneath Eddie’s shirt, tweaking at his nipples on his way to tug it over his head. Eddie eagerly pulled Richie’s shirt off then, and sat back to pull off his shorts. Richie took the moment to pull his off as well.

Eddie returned to his lap then, only to push him down against their make-shift bed, reaching somewhere behind his head into one of his bags to search for the supplies they needed . Richie stole the moment of Eddie stretched above his head to tweak and suck at his nipples, knowing how much Eddie melted for that shit, taking one into his mouth, warm and wet, only to blow a cool stream of air against it then repeating the process over and over until Eddie was begging for him. Now wasn’t necessarily one of those times though, because Eddie sighed into the sensation, sure, but he was moving back down Richie’s body then. Settling somewhere on Richie’s legs uncapping the lube that Richie usually would have had by now.

With confusion, Richie sat up a bit, leaning onto his elbows, intrigued by the way Eddie was squeezing the liquid onto his own fingers. Onto the hand that Richie had _blinged-out_ maybe ten minutes ago. Eddie’s slicked up fingers that then disappeared behind his body, leaning down and letting his head fall onto Richie’s abdomen.

A low groan escaped his mouth, and Richie knew that he had sunk a finger in, Richie’s stomach pooled, and his dick twitched at the sight. His eyes were hooded, and his mouth was parted, completely enamored with the man in front of him. Bent over his body, fingering himself open with a beautiful blush high on his cheeks and parted cherry red lips, gasping and releasing bursts of moaned puffs every so often.

“Don’t lose the ring in there…” Richie said then, though it didn’t have the usual cadence his jokes usually carried, it was broken and wrecked, too overwhelmed with what was happening in front of him to focus on the tone of his voice.

“ _Shut up dickwad…”_ Eddie said between a pant, reaching his free hand to grab Richie’s cock, earning yet another jolt from Richie, who’s head lulled back and groaned into his touch.

Eddie was never one to give blow jobs or anything, and Richie was completely fine with that, he’s never asked for one, or even really _craved_ one from him, because he was always so ready to sink deep into him and fuck him until he couldn’t speak. But now with Eddie’s face in such close proximity to his cock and his hand gripped around it, Richie couldn’t help but whine.

Eddie shifted his head to press a kiss to the shaft of his cock, big brown eyes locking with Richie’s blue as he did so. His wet warm lips, soft and tender there. Richie felt like he was _dreaming_.

“ _Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy down there Eds…”_ Richie groaned.

Eddie sunk another finger into himself, gasping dramatically, letting his swollen lips fall open and drag along Richie’s throbbing cock. Complete bliss, complete and utter fucking euphoria was where Richie’s mind was then.

_“When did you get so fucking… slutty…”_ Richie couldn’t control his mouth.

Eddie’s blush deepened, and he shyly stuck his tongue out of his mouth, positioning his mouth at the base of Richie’s shaft.

Richie could only shake his head in disbelief, never in his life did he think Eddie fucking Kaspbrak’s tongue would be any where near his dick, so eager and willing to drag itself along its underside. Which is just what it did then, moving so firm and slow. Precum leaked from the tip of Richie’s dick onto his abdomen as Eddie’s tongue trailed towards it, agonizingly slow. Richie felt his mind go blank as Eddie inched closer and closer, seemingly making no effort to avoid it. His tongue then reached the spot, dropping right from the head of Richie’s cock to the spot on his abdomen, lapping at the liquid there. His expression was unreadable because he was now nosing at Richie’s naval and groaning at the way he was fucking himself with his fingers.

_“Fucking Christ Eddie!”_ Richie whined, the whole ordeal was _so fucking arousing_ , he felt as if his head would start spinning any second. Eddie draped over his body, putting on _such a fucking show_.

Eddie only laughed in his wrecked voice, Richie felt his teeth on his skin, then he felt his soft lips plant a sweet kiss before Eddie pulled his fingers out of himself and sat up. He planted his hands on Richie’s chest to hold himself steady as he moved to hover above him.

“No condom?” Richie asked, as Eddie reached for the bottle of lube then.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asked, hesitating before squeezing some into his palm.

“’s more than okay…” Richie said, sloppily and entirely weak at the mere _thought_ of it, not to mention the fact that it was so close to actually _happening._

Eddie laughed his blissed out, _breathy_ laugh and squeezed the lube into his palm before capping the bottle and tossing it towards the bag it came from before reaching behind himself for Richie’s cock again, stroking him a few times before lining it up with his hole.

The whole thing was straight out of a dream Richie had probably had once before, Eddie’s blush creeping down his neck and onto his chest as he worked his way into sitting on his dick. Face scrunching up, eyes squeezed shut as his eyebrows knotted together. Bruised mouth parted and pulsing with each breath he took in.

Richie’s hands explored the firmness of his toned thighs, flexed in their position squatted above him. Eddie rode up and down a few times, arching his back and taking only a portion of Richie’s cock into his hole each time, still trying to work his way up to the whole thing in his determined fashion, but so _eager_ to feel pleasure as well as administer it. Richie admired that about him, how his determined nature snuck its way into their intimate moments. Eddie’s face always so scrunched up and focused on the task of fitting Richie’s entire dick into himself.

Richie groaned at the contact, so bare and wet, feeling Eddie entirely now with no condom. Warm and slick, but still so… _so fucking tight…_

_“You feel so… fucking… good Eds…”_ Richie watched as Eddies cock leaked onto his abdomen, so wet and neglected there. _“So… fucking tight… and wet…”_

Eddie sunk down a bit further onto his cock, taking close to the entire length of it now. Groaning out a breathy string of words as he sunk down into sitting. His whiny expression so blissed out, the bottom lip of his parted mouth glistened in the low light of the tent, his brows drawn up above his eyes barely opened, gazing down at Richie’s face.

Richie felt something in his throat and chest give out, a reaction to how fucking _hot_ Eddie was sitting there all pretty on his dick.

Eddie sat there for a minute, getting used to it, running his hands along Richie’s chest as he ground his hips every once in a while, arching his back more and sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to mouth a silent _“fuck.”_

Richie’s hand’s explored Eddie’s perfect body, so taught and firm everywhere for how much he worked to be there, sitting on Richie’s cock. Thighs firm with muscle, abdomen tight and glossy from where precum leaked some time ago.

_“We…_ ” Eddie started, in his deep, breathy, lustful voice. _“We were fucking made for each other…”_

Richie’s parted mouth fell into his goofy lopsided grin, because he knew exactly what Eddie meant. Not only were they matched so perfectly with every sexual desire and subconscious crave, but they just _worked._ Even when they bickered, it always ended in a compromise and a smile. Even when Richie was self-aware he was being annoying, Eddie never once told him to shut up and meant it viciously. Their personalities clicked like puzzle pieces, different in so many ways, but in ways that made it clear that they were in fact, meant to be together. Richie without Eddie was like summer without the sun, the sea without it’s crashing waves, a flower without its petals.

Richie nodded with his grin and Eddie’s fingers found his jawline, cupping him sweetly there as he bent over for a sloppy kiss, wet, warm, and slick. Richie took the moment to run his hands through his hair, just about completely dry now, and ever so soft and fluffy. When Eddie pulled away, he shifted his body, adjusting his legs to better control his bounce as he dragged himself up the shaft of Richie’s dick. Eliciting a moan from each of them. He rode him slow at first, dragging out the moment, giving Richie ample time to drool over his form combined with the sensation of his wet hole, bare against his cock with the absence of latex.

He had almost no control of his legs, bending and shifting them to resist the urge to thrust up into Eddie, who was doing such a fucking _great job_ at riding his cock, bouncing on top of him like he was meant to, fucking onto Richie’s dick and disappearing more and more into his blissed out expression with each fall.

Eventually Eddie grew tired and impatient, hands planted on either side of Richie’s head, pressing into the ground as he repositioned his legs, on his knees now, arching his back with each pump of his hole on Riche’s cock. He hovered there, blissed out and whining his name, _“Richie… Richie…”_

Richie planted his feet on the ground, finding firm footing amidst the mess of blankets, and squeezing Eddie’s ass firmly with each of his hands, groaning at the way Eddie moaned at the touch. He allowed his hands to follow the motion of him fucking down onto his cock, staring down at the way Eddie’s dick leaked and brushed against his stomach.

His glasses were fogging, and he could tell by the way Eddie quivered at his sides and beneath his hands that his body was growing tired, fighting back against his urge to ride Richie. He tightened his grasp and locked his elbows, holding Eddie in place as he angled his hips, thrusting once experimentally into his heat.

Eddie moaned and tried to push back against Richie’s hands, eager for more, so Richie delivered. Thrusting into him again, and again, fucking into him to the beat in his head. Watching as Eddie’s face fell apart above him, locking onto something entirely erotic and blissed out.

Richie fucked into him, harder and harder, more and more, spreading him open with his fingers digging into the cheeks of his ass, loving what it was doing to Eddie who was now quivering and whining, so _close to coming apart completely_.

_“Richie… keep fucking… going…”_ Eddie managed to mumble between thrusts and pants.

Richie did just that, angling himself a bit better to more accurately fuck against his prostate. After that it only took a few thrusts for Eddie to spill across his chest, his dick completely untouched, brought to his finish by penetration alone. Richie fucked him through his orgasm and pulled out swiftly before the contact became too much for him, quickly darting his hand down between them to pump himself the rest of the way. Eddie, panting and struggling to even keep himself upright, bent in such a way to press his face into the side of Richie’s neck, working at his skin with his mouth, reaching a hand down to cup and fondle at Richie’s balls as he yanked at himself desperately.

He came moments later as he babbled a string of _‘I love you’s_ and variations of Eddie’s name. In the moments when he was regaining his senses and giving his legs a break, Eddie kissed along his neck and cheek, working lazy, sloppy kisses against his mouth when he finally got there. Richie kissed him back and let his clean hand cup at Eddies face.

When their kiss reached a conclusion, Eddie settled next to him on his side, falling sloppily as if completely exhausted and struggling to keep himself up. Richie’s chest glistened in the low light of the tent, glimmering with the mess of their cum together. He admired it for a bit before reaching for the nearest towel, still damp from their recent shower. Cleaning himself off and balling it up, tossing it to the side before turning to face Eddie.

“Thanks for the ring.” Eddie said, hint of a laugh behind his quiet breathy voice.

“You are fucking insane.” Richie could only laugh and shake his head.

Eddie laughed too and rolled more onto his stomach, closer to Richie.

“I wish I could wash my hands.”

Richie snorted and brushed his hair out of his face before sitting up a bit, reaching for each of their shorts, pulling on his own and tossing Eddie’s on top of his ass. Eddie flipped over and tugged them on with a laugh and a hiss, laying on his back being an uncomfortable sensation to happen so soon.

“You’ve got to have hand sanitizer or something right?” Richie suggested as he crawled over to Eddie’s suitcase.

“Probably…” Eddie said, rolling back to his stomach.

Richie dug through Eddie’s suitcase, coming across a smaller zippered bag, filled with all sorts of products, hand creams, hair product, sunscreen, and finally, of course, the hand sanitizer. He gave himself a squeeze of the liquid, knowing that Eddie would prefer he sanitize as well, deciding to skip the step of him instructing him to do just that.

As Eddie sanitized his hands, Richie was drawn to the fact that the tent was incredibly hot now. A solution to the problem had been unzipping a portion of the ceiling of the tent to expose somewhat of a _mesh_ window, the stars winking down on them from where they peaked through the holes. Richie flicked off their lamp and lay on his back, he considered taking his glasses off, then decided against it, wanting to admire the stars for a bit longer before drifting off to sleep completely.

Eddie crawled over to him then, resting his arms and head on top of his chest, propping his head up in such a way that gazed at Richie. Richie glanced down at him and flashed him a smile. Then gazed back up at the stars. He stared at them long enough to begin to be able to decipher which had a hue of color and which seemed to be bigger than others. Memorizing their placements, allowing his eyes to travel back to ones he deemed to be favorites.

He thought about how they may have ended up there, he was never one to believe in religion so much, or really find himself understanding so much about the science they had discovered thus far about how they came to be. So… he decided that Eddie put them there, because he was probably capable of doing something so beautiful.

“I wonder how long it took you to put all those up there…” Richie said, voice soft and low, trying hard to not break the Zen they found listening to the background noise of crickets and the nearby waterfall.

“Hm?” Eddie asked, confused as to what he was referring to.

“I really like what you did with the one in the corner there…” Richie said, bringing one of his hands up to vaguely point to it, bright and burning so far away. He planted his hand in Eddie’s fluffy head of hair when he brought it back down, brushing it away from his face and massaging his fingers against his scalp softly.

“I’m pretty sure that one was you…” Eddie teased, turning his head and moving his arms to hug around Richie’s torso, pressing his cheek against his chest.

Richie smiled at the sky fondly, because Eddie’s response couldn’t have been more precious.

He felt his soft breath against his skin, watching as his eyes fluttered closed and his eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones. He really was a thing of beauty, that Richie still couldn’t believe he could call his. To be so silently obsessed and protective over him for _so long…_ not knowing that the feelings were mutual… being so blind to the fact that Eddie felt the same way.

It was frustrating to think about, so he didn’t think about it for long, instead, he focused on how happy he was. Happy he was to be here with Eddie holding him fondly, and to be holding him back just the same. To have made love to him just minutes ago, and to have it have been one of the best sexual experiences in his life. Thinking about the fact that though it was the most recent occurrence to him now, that there were many more moments like that to come. He and Eddie could love each other like this forever, and no one could say that it’s wrong.

No one could stand in the way of their love, and Richie knew that now. He knew the threat of never being able to love Eddie was gone. There was no more, waiting, there was no more wishing, there was no more yearning. There was only here and now, with Eddie drifting to sleep on his chest, warm, firm and present, radiating a kind love that Richie felt he would never be able to experience.

_“Hey Eds?”_ Richie whispered _so softly_ he wasn’t even sure Eddie could hear it if he _was_ awake.

He was in an obvious state of sleep, mouth parted and breaths shallow and even against Richie’s chest.

_“I love you…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! This story was so fun to write and I'm already having such a great time writing the sequel, which I hope you all will read because trust me its going to be juicy. I've already written a good chunk of it so it should be coming soon! All of your comments about this fic so far have meant the world to me and have been great motivators, thank you all so much again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments! Also, as always feel free to follow and talk to me on tumblr!
> 
> @richiestoeshurt


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